AN: I'd like to thank those who reviewed last chapter, and especially mataeae 123 for the kind words of support. Simple as they were, they meant a lot to this wet behind the ears writer. Thank you.

On another note, it never occurred to me that Anodites, as creatures of pure mana, wouldn't have DNA. More than one of you pointed this out to me.

Also, there is a poll up on my profile about the pairing. Check it out if you're interested. It's a bit spoilery, but nothing that you couldn't have figured out after reading this chapter.

Edit: I'd like to clarify something. Just because Asahi assumes something to be true, such as the Devilukeans ruling the Milky Way, doesn't make it fact. He's operating off assumptions from the source materials he's consumed. Nor do any American comic heroes exist unless otherwise stated. The Lantern Core isn't a thing in this story beyond Asahi drawing inspiration from their costume designs.

The only series in effect at this time are MHA, Ben 10, the Devilukeans from To Love Ru, and Tamaraneans from Teen Titans/DC. Hope that clears things up.

Chapter Two: Rivalries and Blood Feuds

"So," I mused aloud, giving an undignified yelp as I was almost sent tumbling ass over tit. Regaining my precarious balance with no small amount of effort, I continued, "Your quirk is a strength-enhancing type?"

From his place in the sand, Izuku grunted an affirmative.

"Have you tried speaking with All Might about it? Your quirk seems pretty similar to his own. Perhaps he could give you some pointers on how to not cripple yourself."

Completing his latest set with a grunt, Izuku, features flush from exertion, pushed himself up onto his knees. Though most would have dismissed his grimace as strain from his mind-boggling workout regimen, as opposed to discomfort with how accurate my seemingly innocuous observation had been, I still managed to catch the telling signs of his unease.

"I did," he admitted after a moment, his tone colored with what could best be described as frustration. Whether it was with himself or his mentor, I couldn't tell. "He wasn't able to help. Said that One— his quirk, came naturally to him."

Attempting to maintain focus on my own exercise, I hummed pensively.

"So tell me what it was like again?"

"I don't know how to describe it," he confessed, looking lost. "I just sort of, you know, moved. I knew I had to intervene, had to reach her—"

"The brunette cutie, right?" I teased, chuckling as he flushed crimson to the roots of his hair.

"Yeah, her… The next thing I knew, I was hurling myself at the zero-pointer, arm drawn back, and…" he trailed off, a flush of a different kind tinting his cheeks.

"And, what?" I encouraged as I sped around him, kicking up sand head high, emboldened by the nice soft beach beneath us, lurking in wait should I overcorrect.

"And, well, my butt clenched as I scream out," he admitted, fidgeting and looking uncomfortable. I snorted, unable to mask my amusement. I had forgotten that that had been All Might's brilliant tidbit of advice for harnessing One For All. The man had said it himself. A teacher he was not.

"Considering you destroyed your legs and arm, maybe you were using more power than your body can currently contain," I mused, pretending to contemplate on the matter. "You have been training for less than a year."

I was an avid fan of fan fiction, no pun intended. And while I had read stories where SI's would hint to Izuku about how to go about learning the necessary control he so desperately needed, allowing him to make the connection on his own, I just wasn't hardwired that way. Why beat around the bush when I could help him now, so he might be better prepared to handle the considerable challenges ahead?

Tomorrow was due to be our first day of classes as U.A. students. Which meant the USJ invasion was drawing ever closer. An event I was clueless about how to prevent, or even how to make better, without exposing myself or potentially revealing my, admittedly, limited meta-knowledge. The best I could come up with at present was to assure Izuku had a firm handle on One For All.

"Maybe instead of focusing on just your limbs," I added thoughtfully, "try dispersing a lesser amount of power evenly throughout your body?"

I smiled as I watched realization dawn upon his freckled features. If that wasn't enough to show he had cottoned on to the necessary adjustments he needed to make, his accompanying mumble fest would have been proof enough.

Giving myself a pat on the back for a job well done, I turned my sights skyward. After a moment's hesitation, I levitated out over the water, skimming over the rippling tides at speeds just shy of reckless.

While a proper Anodite was capable of unaided flight, I was still anything but. Thus I had taken to using my shields as a makeshift platform. Originally, I had attempted to emulate Gwen, who had used a single shield in a fashion that wasn't too dissimilar to Ben's beloved hoverboard. But doing so had, for reasons that were beyond me, felt wrong. Clunky even. Which had led me to create two smaller shields, each the same size and shape as my feet.

Unless someone was paying close enough attention, it appeared I was flying, instead of cheating, as I thought of it. And while I was capable of going as high and fast as I desired, sharp changes in direction and stopping abruptly still tended to end with me a bruised and winded heap on the ground.

My concentration was broken as a guttural roar intruded upon my elation — there was nothing quite like the wind in your face as you raced through the sky — sending me careening into the ocean from more than six feet up. Choking and sputtering on saltwater and soaked through to the bone, I surfaced to find Izuku pumping a worse for wear but fully functional arm victoriously into the air.

"I did it!" he cheered, sobering seconds later as he watched me rise from the depths of the water with an unamused expression. "S—sorry."

"Don't worry about it," I huffed. Tossing my sodden shirt aside as I touched down on dry land, I created a force field about the size of a full-grown man's chest. "Now that you've taken the first step, let's see what you're capable of?"

"I don't know…" Izuku muttered, glancing about the deserted beach. It was late. Twilight had begun to fall and the last of the beachgoers had packed up for the day and left more than an hour prior. "We could get into trouble if anyone saw."

"Come on, Zu. Live a little. If I haven't been caught flying around for the past few hours, I doubt anyone is going to notice us now."

"If you're sure," he relented, not looking convinced.

"Good." Conjuring up two more shields, I set them hovering about him at different heights and speeds. "Have at it. Don't hold back."

Izuku took on a boxer's stance, watching as the transparent constructs sped by at uncoordinated intervals. Watching as he tentatively swung out at one, I sent it abruptly flying skyward, causing him to hit empty air.

"Hey— ouch!" Hand going to his smarting cheek, he glared at the offending force field that had come around from his blindspot to catch him in the face. "What gives!?"

"I said unload, not daintily swat at them," I pointed out. "And what's with that stance? You going to copy Might's fighting style? Doesn't that seem a little— I don't know, boring to you?"

Grumbling under his breath, he glared at the offending shield as it switched between circling him clockwise and counterclockwise.

"I don't exactly have any training in martial arts," he countered, as close to grousing as I had ever seen him.

"No, but you're not a trained boxer either. And as a rule, your legs are stronger than your arms." He conceded my point with a thoughtful nod. "Try branching out some. Since you don't have a set style to draw on, just wing it. If it doesn't mesh well, you can always go back to your mini Might routine."

Izuku paled. "Wha— How? Who told you about that!?"

"I've seen the pictures," I lied. It wasn't as if I could tell him I had watched the scene unfold montage style as part of an anime.

"You can never tell anyone!"

"Agreed. You'd carry the shame for the rest of your days," I cackled. "Now focus, or I'll spread your dirty secret."

Emboldened by my threat and his earlier run-in with my shield, his form suffused with lightning. Drawing back to deliver a punch, I redirected his intended target. But where previously he had been caught unawares, he kept pace, swinging out at one of the others. His fist impacted upon the force field, sending a shudder through it. Not content to sit idle, he spun, aiming a forward kick at another, this one at the height of his waist, once more eliciting a hollow ringing for his efforts.

I was pleased to see my shields would hold under what amounted to two percent of One For All, or so I assumed that was the amount he was using. But before I could commend him on his success, he used his leverage on his latest "victim" to backflip, displaying a dexterity that was awe-inspiring to watch, delivering a vicious scissor kick to the same one that had dodged him before, sending a series of fissures through its face before shattering.

Surprising as the display was, I had little time to register it as the 'blowback' hit, dropping me to a knee with a grunt.

"Asahi!" Izuku, still shrouded in the vestiges of One For All, was at my side, a hand on my back. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," I nodded, winded. "I just wasn't expecting that."

While my shield breaking hadn't hurt, per se. It had by no means been a pleasant experience.

With a pronounced shake of my head, I rose to my feet. "Again."

"I don't kno—"

Not giving him the opportunity to refuse, I sent the remaining two hurtling toward him, their trajectories violent and unpredictable. As Izuku leaped away, narrowly twisting out of the way of a swipe at the back of his head, I mused on what happened.

Though it could have escaped my memory, it had been a long time since I had watched the series, I didn't recall Gwen reacting in the same way when her shields were broken. Not sure how to feel about this drawback of my abilities, I continued to fire my shields at a ducking and diving Izuku, making him work for the chance to return fire.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"This is it," I announced, gesturing to the massive pair of double doors that lead to our classroom. Large enough to easily accommodate physical specimens like All Might, in his muscle form, and those bigger still, the entrance was emblazoned with "1-A" in bold crimson lettering. "You ready?"

Izuku gave a determined nod. "As I'm going to be."

Clapping him encouragingly on the shoulder, I favored him with a smile as I slid the entrance open. Inside were a number of students who had arrived even earlier than us, all of whom I recognized with a glance. Yaoyorozu Momo, Todoroki Shoto, Tokoyami Fumikage, Asui Tsuyu, Iida Tenya, and Kirishima Eijirou. Some of 1-A's heaviest hitters stared back at us, curiosity apparent.

Nodding toward those who had deigned to give us more than a passing glance — Shoto having returned to staring stoically out the window — Izuku and I set about finding our seats. To our surprise, we were located next to one another, in the row furthest from the front, with Izuku to my immediate right. A cursory glance told me that Bakugo was his other neighbor, resting between him and our future vice representative.

Before we had settled in, the door opened once more to admit a stream of new arrivals. Sato, Aoyama, Sero, and Shoji.

It was surreal, seeing all these characters I had invested time in, live, and in the flesh. They were real, living, breathing individuals, each with dreams and aspirations as unique as themselves. But it was as the next group arrived — Ojiro, Jiro, Kaminari, and unfortunately, trailing in at the rear and looking as cantankerous as ever, Bakugo — that I paused to consider just who it was I had edged out for a spot in the highly coveted 1-A roster.

No matter what kind of fuckery was responsible for my placement in this world, I doubted Ochako, Head Waifu Supreme, would be displaced. Some things not even the Gods of old would dare tamper with. Though it did narrow down the answer that much more.

"Deku?! What the hell are you doing here?!" I was drawn from my musing by the familiar belligerent growl. With a resigned sigh, I glanced over to see the blond near vibrating with indignant rage.

"Bitch-kugo," I interjected before Izuku could stutter out a response, provoking the unstable explosion-user into attacking him. "Try and pretend you've been housetrained, yeah. Sit down and stop making an ass of yourself."

"You quirkless bastard," Katsuki snarled, hands erupting in a series of concentrated explosions as he threw aside his backpack, starting toward me and sending Izuku's desk skidding to the side. Before he had taken more than a step, I had conjured a four-ply shield, the most I could manage at once. While I hadn't had the opportunity to test my mana shields against his quirk, I wasn't taking any chances of him getting through.

His progression was halted, however, by the appearance of Tenya. The well-built son of Iida, in all his repressed, rule-abiding glory, towered over the blond, an idle hand adjusting his glasses.

"The use of one's quirk against a fellow student is prohibited under the U.A. charter of conduct, and is punishable, depending on the severity of the offense, by expulsion," he recited, tone reprimanding and arms chopping. And just like that, the big lug had gone and scored brownie points with me. "Furthermore—"

"The fuck is your damage?" Bakugo sneered up at the wall of well-toned muscle that had dared bar his path. "Do you want to die, glasses?!"

Knowing what was to come next, I dropped my shield and reconjured it in front of Iida as Katsuki made to seize him none too gently by the tie, hands alight with his explosive quirk. My smirk grew to bastardly levels when, much to the blond's chagrin, my force field didn't so much as waver under his errant quirk.

"That's enough."

Before Bakugo could rear back and give my mana guard a proper testing, a scarf shot out lightning-quick and ensnared his wrist. If that hadn't been enough to turn the blond apoplectic, then his quirk abruptly snuffing out would have more than accomplished the job.

"Who the fuc—" Katsuki was silenced via the same length of carbon fiber cloth that had snagged his offending hand, drawing the collective attention of the room to the one responsible. I gave a silent, smug cheer upon spotting an exhausted-looking Aizawa glaring daggers at the blond.

"Anyone who uses their quirk on another outside of official training exercises will be expelled immediately," he drawled, his apathetic tone at odds with his flinty gaze. Arm tensing, his capture scarf slackened before returning to its permanent residence about his throat. "That includes you," he added, turning the full brunt of his gaze upon me.

Mood soaring and shooting a simmering Bakugo a condescending grin, I bobbed my head in acceptance. I couldn't even be bothered to balk at being reprimanded for defending another. With a tired sigh, the frightfully pale pro-hero/teacher turned and shuffled his way to the front of the room, pausing to bark at the contingent of students who had frozen near the entrance upon witnessing a near brawl unfold before our first official lesson had begun.

"To your seats," he grunted, as no-nonsense as he had been portrayed in the manga. "Now."

As they hastened to find their seats, I took the opportunity to look them over, attempting to suss out who the odd man out from the original series would be. To my immense shock, there wasn't just one, but three.

There was Ochako, of course, and Mina. Both deserving of their positions. It was the pair in attendance with them, however, which saw me sit up and take notice.

Momo Deviluke glided to her seat, which just so happened to be located next to mine, with all the poise and grace one would expect of a princess. The rosette came up short, albeit only momentarily, upon spotting me. With a flippant toss of her shoulder-length hair that managed to garner more than one appreciative glance from our classmates, both the males and females, she continued to take her place as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, pointedly not meeting my gaze.

Again, no surprise there. Devilukeans, as a rule, were built different. Many times stronger and more durable than your average human, though I assumed the inclusion of quirks somewhat lessened this divide in natural ability, and born with a myriad of differing and distinct natural abilities. Through war, they had usurped the right to rule over the rest of the galaxy. Not only that but from what I knew of their series of origin, their species were inspired by and drew several… concerning, parallels to Saiyans.

Momo, had I given her placement the consideration it deserved — which I obviously hadn't! — was an expected addition.

No, it was the other alien princess which had me gobsmacked. Distinctive auburn tresses, russet-orange skin, and bottle-green eyes that glowed from within with inhuman power, Star-freaking-fire levitated to her seat, bobbing along a few inches above the ground, all sunshine smiles, the total embodiment of adorkable energy.

I hated admitting it, even to myself, but my knowledge of Tamaraneans, as much as I loved Teen Titans growing up, was severely lacking. I had never gotten around to reading any of the comics in which they — she — had been featured. Beyond that they were a battle-loving people, as enhanced as Devilukeans, capable of learning any language through lip contact, could fly as toddlers, and wielded powerful energy known simply as "Starbolts", I was drawing a total blank.

It wouldn't be until later, much later, that I would make the connection that Minoru Mineta, Hagakure Toru, and Koda Koji were the trio who failed to make the cut into the Hero Course; or at the very least class 1-A. Objectively, this made sense, at least to me. Of the original 1-A, their quirks, as suitable to hero work as they undoubtedly were, made the least sense. How had Toru managed to destroy even the weakest of villain-bots with invisibility alone? As for Koda, the soft-spoken pacifist, I kinda doubted there were enough animals of substantial size and strength in the vicinity of his test site to take down a one-pointer, let alone the remaining robo-types used in the entrance exam.

"Allow me to be perfectly frank with you," our homeroom teacher began in tones brooking no room for disobedience, drawing me back to the present. "Dismiss whatever preconceived notions you might have had about the next three years of your education. For those amongst you who actually manage to graduate as part of the Hero Course, your time here will be the hardest of your young lives. My job is not to coddle you. To assure you make the most of the training offered. Or keep you in line," he said with a pointed look at a fuming Katsuki, who scoffed. "My responsibility, and that of every other professor here at U.A., is to sculpt and hone you into the future heroes and heroines of tomorrow — the very backbone of our society. My job is to give you the best chance at surviving the perilous, often unrewarding life of a pro-hero."

Deliberately catching and holding the gaze of each of us in turn, after a prolonged moment of tense silence that had built to a point where it threatened to collapse upon itself, he broke his silence.

"I'm Aizawa Shouta, your homeroom teacher," he continued, a collective breath of relief passing through the room. "Should you give your all and prove to be up to the challenge, I will continue to be so. But make no mistake. What you learn here could one day be the difference between life and death. Yours and that of those who will one day be under the umbrella of your influence. You are all young men and women. You will conduct yourselves as such or face the consequences."

All thoughts of space royalty were driven from the forefront of my mind, awed by the blunt delivery of his opening speech. That had certainly been different from canon. I mean damn, Aziawa's spooky ass had given me literal chills. It was like listening to Snape lecture on the Dark Arts, just, you know, less greasy hair and stained robes. But at the same time, I was more pumped than ever for the road ahead. Discrepancies from the source material aside, this felt like what a real school for heroes should be.

His point made, he turned and made for the exit, pausing just short of leaving to toss a parting command over his shoulder, "Get dressed in your gym uniforms and meet me outside for your Quirk Assessment. You have fifteen minutes... Do not be late."

Ignoring the confused and scandalized mutterings from around the room about missing Opening Orientation and those musing on the intensity of our homeroom teach, I grabbed my bag containing my gym attire and headed for the locker room. As I went, I realized I did have one prevailing complaint.

The infuriating lack of a bright-yellow sleeping bag.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Decked out in our U.A. prescribed sweats and giving our crotchety badass of a teacher our full focus, I stood toward the end of the line of my classmates. Izuku to one side and Mezo, or as I likened him, Kakashi squid-arms, on the other. Aizawa made a point of checking the time, grunting dismissively when it became apparent we had arrived within the time limit he had set down.

"You're punctual if nothing else."

Knowing what I did of the man, both this version and that from the manga, it didn't require any great leap of logic to realize this was as close to praise as we were likely ever to hear him utter.

After an almost word-for-word explanation from the manga of what the Quirk Apprehension test would intel, with just one ominous portion omitted — the threat of the lowest scorer being booted from the Hero Course — including a spirited demonstration of the ball throw from our violent dandelion, we were underway. Our first test of the day, the standing long jump.

"Izuku," I spoke in low tones, taking him by the arm and guiding him away from the others. The first jumper, Aoyama, made his way to the front of the class, surprising them when he turned and faced the opposite direction. The proceedings taking up their attention, I was sure no one would overhear. "Listen to me, you have to go all out on these tests. Don't do anything reckless, like shattering your spine on the toe-touch. But make sure you're not last."

My pseudo brother regarded me with open confusion. "Asahi?"

"Just… trust me, okay. Call it a gut feeling. Nothing good can come of placing last. Promise me."

"I promise," he nodded, not understanding why I was being so insistent. Which was fair. Timid he might be, after a lifetime of being looked down on for his lack of a quirk, even he would jump at the chance to show his stuff in front of a group of his peers. If for no other reason than to assure his high school life wasn't as tumultuous as his first nine years of schooling. But I couldn't take the chance that my hunch was right and he somehow end up kicked from the class.

Izuku, while more deserving than most of his place in the Hero Course, was integral to assuring the assault on 1-A didn't become an unmitigated tragedy. He was responsible for saving more than one life that day. And now that I was a presence in this world, a world that at the very least contained elements from two other series, who knew what kind of kinks might rear their head during the USJ.

"Good," I bobbed my head, pleased to see he was taking my warning to heart. "You're up. Go rub Bakugo's nose in how wrong he was about you."

I winced as he hurried forward, stumbling in his haste. I glared at those who snickered. They could laugh now, but only I and All Might knew the truth. Izuku would one day go on to be the undisputed number one hero.

"What was all that about?" a honeyed voice intruded upon my thoughts. Turning, I managed to smother my grimace upon finding Momo — Deviluke, not the buxom exhibitionist — regarding me searchingly.

"Whatever do you mean, Princess?" I played at modest, sparing her only a brief glance before giving Izuku's turn at the standing jump my attention. Unsurprisingly, she was undeterred.

"The warning you gave your friend," she challenged, tail swaying hypnotically behind her. "What do you know about the exam you're not sharing?"

I smiled genially, the picture of innocents, watching as Izuku prepared to shock the class.

"Isn't it against some kind of royal code of conduct to stoop to eavesdropping? Not very princessly of you, I must say."

Momo wore a smile, mischievous, as she sided up to me. "You must not know as much about my people as you think if you really believe that. If I'm not mistaken, Earthlings have an apt expression. All's fair in love and war?"

I couldn't help myself. Really, I couldn't. Grinning crookedly, I replied, "Obsessed with me already, my lady? Love this soon? You're coming on a tad strong, I must say. Not that I mind."

Laughter, clear and bright like the tinkling bells, rewarded my quip.

"Sure, let's go with love," she sighed, clasping her hands behind her back. "Whatever makes this easier for you."

"No need for games. You'll find I'm extremely easy as is."

Momo laughed that same musical laugh. "I'm sure you are."

We both fell silent as Izuku was given the go-ahead by a bored-looking Aizawa. Tensing as he channeled the proper amount of One For All throughout his body, Izuku, a burst of viridian lightning coursing across the planes of his person, launched himself forward with a yell, clearing the sandbox by more than five feet. Not content to mumble appreciatively like the rest, I gave a rancorous whoop. Izuku, now thoroughly embarrassed, palmed the back of his neck bashfully.

The only person not impressed with his performance, besides the ever stoic Aizawa, was Bakugo. Of course. Watching as his countenance darkened with disbelief and a not-insignificant amount of hate, he charged bullishly forward to confront the "quirkless mistake". I cast an inconspicuous shield with a twitch of my fingers that went unnoticed by all, save Katsuki, who promptly tripped over it. Before his face ever hit the ground and the snickers began, the mana construct was gone.

Momo arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at my display.

"All's fair," I replied to her unasked question, shrugging.

She hummed, a teasing lilt to the sound. "And here I thought you were showing an interest in little ol' me. He is attractive, I'll admit. If overly abrasive is your type, that is."

I snorted. "Even if that was my preference, there's too much history for there to be anything but contempt between us. No, my desires toward him are much more malignant in nature. To share with him a fraction of the pain and suffering he so callously inflicts upon others, that's as deep as my feelings for him run."

"I don't know〰" she giggled, covering her mouth with a deceptively dainty hand. "The difference between love and hate can be difficult to differentiate."

"My nonexistent love life aside," I dryly brushed past her attempt to rile me up. "Why would approaching me constitute war?"

"That depends very much upon you... How do you know who I am? I was led to believe the greater populace of Earth was ignorant of the inner workings and affairs of the extended cosmos."

"Ah," I mused, realization dawning. "So that's your angle."

"Come again?"

"Why her highness would be bothered to show a lowly plebeian from some dusty backwater interest," I summarized, incorporating Verdona's less than flattering description of Earth into my answer. I grinned, giving an approaching Izuku an approving nod. "Worry not, Princess. Your secret, and that of Koriand'r, will go no further."

Turning a blind eye to her shock, I gave Izuku a high five as he reached us.

"I shouldn't have worried. I knew you would kill it."

"Thanks," he beamed. He sobered immediately upon spotting Momo, faltering midstep as she graced him with a smile.

"Impressive show," she said politely. Izuku squeaked. But before he could try and formulate a response more elegant than "um" and "uh", a bigger hurdle to his speech patterns appeared. Cheeks as rosy as ever, Ochako bounded forward, babbling away a mile a minute about his turn, oblivious of the devastating effect her mere presence had on him.

I chuckled, watching as Izuku squirmed under her praise; Momo's own laughter joining my own.

"My, aren't they adorable."

"That's a top-tier OTP for ya."

"A what?"

"Hoshiko," Aizawa's disapproving rumble called out to me, halting any further response. "Your turn, let's go."

"My time to dazzle the masses," I joked to those around me.

As it turned out, flight, even my simulated version of it, was broken in tests like these. Suffusing the bottoms of my feet in a thin film of mana, I floated across the sandbox and continued on.

"Do I keep going or is this enough?" I asked our sensei as I leisurely passed him by.

"Jiro, you're up," was his droll response.

As it would turn out as the day progressed, the use of life force proved to be quite broken when applied correctly. Creative use of my shields in the seated toe-touch, grip strength test, and sit-up portions, and high-speed flight in the fifty-meter dash and long-distance run saw me consistently scoring toward the top of the rankings. Only three individuals repeatedly outperformed me, Deviluke, Starfire, and Izuku; with an increasingly incensed Bakugo coming off worse, albeit only slightly. Not that this was any consolation to him.

Finally, it was time for the last event of the day, the ball throw. Izuku had just gone, sending the poor abused sphere more than a hundred meters further than his childhood bully. I was certain we were about to be treated to another tantrum, and an impromptu expulsion if we were lucky, but a single glance from Aizawa put him to heel. Quick. Which, given the boiling pot that was Bakugo, was almost as sweet.

Never before had he been anything but the best at what he tried his hand at. The exalted prodigy and teacher's pet; never responsible for the mysterious injuries those who 'wronged' him appeared with the next day. Having a front-row seat to this harsh dose of reality was gratifying in the most delicious sense.

Intentionally not thinking about the vindictive pleasure I was taking in his 'misfortune', I stepped into the ring and accepted the ball from Aizawa. Replicating the same technique I had used when jumped by multiple villain-bots, just on a much smaller scale, I coated it with a perfectly spherical force field. Rearing back, I unleashed it with a grunt of exertion, increasing its velocity with my mana for as far as my range would permit.

"673.4 meters," Aizawa droned. As he wrote down my score, I returned to the rest of the class. When Bakugo sent me a superior, taunting look, I laughed.

"Congrats," I said as I strode past him to return to my place in line. "You finally beat me out. Too bad you can't say the same about Izuku."

"Listen up," Aizawa commanded. "Your scores are on the board."

Kaki Koriand'r 1st

Deviluke Momo 2nd

Midoriya Izuku 3rd

Hoshiko Asahi 4th

Yaoyorozu Momo 5th

Todoroki Shoto 6th

Bakugo Katsuki 7th

Iida Tenya 8th

Tokoyami Fumikage 9th

Shoji Mezo 10th

Nodding my acceptance of the top ten, I searched out the last name on the list.

Jiro Kyoka 20th

After a moment of searching, I found her standing off to the side away from everyone else. The pixie-cut rocker was attempting to put on a strong front, but the cracks in her facade were discernible to those who paid close enough attention.

"You're dismissed for the day," Aizawa announced, having to raise his voice to be heard over the incessant babble of his class discussing their respective scores. With cheers ringing out from the gathering, we began the trek back to the locker rooms.

"Jiro, stay behind."

From my place at Izuku's side, I froze. As did Kyoka. The petite noirette caught my eye, her apprehension easy to read before she hastily hid it behind a mask of stoicism.

Knowing there was nothing I could do for her, I reluctantly trailed the rest of the crowd. I hoped I was wrong. I liked her. Thought she was a cool character— person, I reminded myself. Yet I couldn't shake the nagging feeling we had seen the last of her.

I was the last to reach the boy's lockers. And as I opened the doors, I exhaled a harsh stream of curses. I rushed toward the source of the commotion to find Bakugo had pinned Izuku to the wall, his forearm buried in his throat.

I was moving before I registered what I was doing, shouldering past those content to stand by and spectate as the drama unfolded. My initial instinct was to slap him down with ample usage of my force fields. But having just watched one student potentially being kicked from the Hero Course, I settled for shoulder checking him, sending him sprawling to the floor.

Quicker than I would have anticipated, he was back on his feet, hands curling in a motion as familiar to me as my mana.

"Go ahead. Please. I'm begging you to," I egged him on. He must have seen something telling in my eyes because he paused short of unleashing hell. "Damn, and here I was thinking you were stupid enough to go for it."

"I'm going to destroy you," the blond promised. "I'll catch you off-campus soon enough, and then I'll—"

"What, shit stain?" I taunted without mirth. Hoping to provoke him, I smirked, jagged and challenging. "Your actions outside of school still reflect upon U.A., or have you forgotten? So go ahead, wait until my back is turned, or you have a group of your knuckle-dragging lackeys at your back. It wouldn't be the first time, would it, coward? I'll take whatever you can dish out with a smile, content in the knowledge the cancerous growth upon 1-A would soon be purged."

"What's going on here?" a glistening Tenya appeared with a towel secured about his waist, fresh from the showers. Seriously, the dude had muscles on muscles. No way should someone built like that be a speedster, the lucky bastard.

"Nothing," I lied, a telling edge to my voice. "Just locker room talk."

Placing a hand on Izuku's shoulder, I pulled him along to where our belongings were stored, not sticking around to hear anyone else's interpretation of events.

"Thanks, Asahi," Izuku mumbled, a hand going to his abused neck as we reached the lockers we had claimed for ourselves. A glance in his direction as we grabbed our towels told me he had more to say but had chosen to remain mum about whatever was bothering him.

"What's up, baby brother?"

"W— what?"

"You've got something on your mind. Just come out with it. I won't bite."

Izuku looked thoughtful and troubled. I began to expect he would keep whatever was bothering him to himself for the time being. Allowing it to fester and eat at him until he mustered up the necessary courage to spit it out. But as I made to leave for the showers, he broke his self-imposed silence.

"It's just that…" he began, frowning. "...the tension between you and Kacchan seems to be getting worse."

I produced a sound in my throat that could be interpreted in a number of different ways. "Maybe for him, things have changed. My feelings, however, are the same as they've always been."

Izuku looked on the verge of imploding with worry. "Just… I know why you hate him. No one understands better than I do. But he's not worth jeopardizing your place here over."

"Trust me, no one knows his lack of worth better."

"Asahi, promise me you won't do anything reckless. You worked as hard as I did to get into U.A.. Don't waste that time and effort. Not on him."

"You worry too much, Zu. I know which boundaries to push and when to swallow my pride."

"That's not a promise," Izuku accused, taking me aback with the amount of conviction he was displaying. It was clear how much this meant to him. His concern was touching but unneeded.

"Fine then," I sighed playfully. "I promise not to do anything dumb."

"G— good," he nodded, the steely edge that had left his shoulders stiff bleeding away.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Asahi?"

From my perch atop my desk, working in my sketchpad, I glanced up to find Izuku looking at me expectantly. Beside him stood Ochaco and Iida. The three seemed to be growing as close as they had in the anime. A fact that made me happy.

"Yeah?"

"Aren't you coming?"

I shook my head, gaze drifting to one desk in particular which had yet to be emptied of the owner's belongings.

"Go ahead. I'll see you at home."

Interest piqued but unwilling to pry, he nodded. Together with his newfound friends in tow, they left.

Returning to my self-portrait, or more of a concept art as it turned out, I put the finishing touches on an alternate version of my future super suit. This incarnation had been inspired heavily by Hal Jordan's Green Lantern from Justice League 3000 — hooded capes were badass. It was fitting that I would consider going this route, given that eventually, I would be able to sculpt my mana in much the same way the Lantern Corps did, creating constructs vastly more complex than generating force fields. After all, one could make a case that Willpower and Life Force were the same.

...Okay, maybe not. But damn if the end result didn't favor.

"You have quite a talent for drawing."

"Tha— thanks," I stumbled over the words upon realizing who the speaker was. Hovering over my shoulder, her long curtain of auburn tresses, which upon closer inspection made the subtle transition from impossibly red to a softer orange and eventually a green-tinged-blonde the further from the roots they stretched, encapsulated her striking features as she regarded my handiwork.

Yet it wasn't her unnatural beauty which had left me on the back foot, but the clear, concise manner with which she spoke. There wasn't even a hint of her backward speech patterns from the show.

It was honestly kind of disappointing.

"Is this to be your hero suit?" she inquired, fixing me with a gaze that I realized was entirely green. There were no whites, similar in design to the version of her seen in the DC animated movies.

"Uh, no," I chuckled. "I did design my own, but that's at home."

"May I?" she asked, nodding toward the notepad.

Hesitating only long enough to recall if there was anything within that might earn me questions I rather not answer. Namely, any drawings of her. I handed it over. Still levitating, pulling her legs under her the way someone might when curled up with a good book, she started at the beginning.

"I stand corrected," she mused, eyeing me. "Talent only goes so far. You've obviously put in a considerable effort to become this good."

I ducked my head bashfully, not so secretly pleased with her assessment. My drawings were one of the few bright points from my previous life. They were what I took the most pride in. To have them complemented and the time I had put into my craft recognized was... nice.

"I appreciate it," I responded truthfully.

"My, aren't the two of you getting cozy over here." Momo strode over to us, her bag slung over her shoulder. It was only then that I realized we were the last ones to leave.

"Momo!" Starfire cheered brightly, floating over to the rosette. "Look! Hoshiko is an artist of some skill."

"Asahi," I corrected as she shared my sketches with her fellow princess. "No need to stand on formality with me."

Momo hummed appreciatively. "You have a future as a costume designer if this whole hero thing doesn't work out."

"That'll come later," I said matter of factly. "First I'll debut, taking the hero scene by storm. After a long, highly decorated career, in which I'll reach the rank of number two on the charts, I'll retire and get nice and fat, selling my concepts for an inflated price."

Momo laughed openly. "Only second, huh?" she inquired, to which I nodded.

"Number one will go to someone more deserving," I explained with a glance toward Izuku's empty desk. The Devilukean seemed surprised by my assessment.

"Your faith in his capabilities is remarkable. You obviously care a great deal for him."

"I do," I admitted without shame. "He's my best friend and brother. No one else knows what he's capable of better than me. People tend to underestimate him, mistaking his kindness and timidity for weakness. I have the privilege of knowing better."

"He performed admirably today," Koriand'r added as she handed over my sketches. "Thank you for sharing with me."

"Think nothing of it. It's always nice to have my ego stroked."

As I was putting away my belongings, it became apparent that the pair had stayed behind for a reason, which became clear when Momo next spoke.

"Asahi, we need to speak," Momo explained carefully.

"I kinda figured we would," I confessed, nonplussed. "As I said before, I won't be sharing your identities with anyone. Not that I would be believed if I did. If I started spouting off about the both of you being offworlders, I'd likely be locked up."

"While we appreciate your discretion, that's not what concerns me." Momo went silent for a moment, her gaze searching. "What's important at present is how you know? There are a total of three individuals privy to the information you inexplicably have."

"Oh, is that it?" Momo frowned at me, all levity absent.

"Yes, that," she confirmed, eyes hard.

"The answer is kind of personal," I feigned discomfort. I really hoped they would buy my excuse. If not, I could have two planets of superbeings braying for my blood. "But since I know your secret, I guess it's only fair."

"Well?" Momo prodded impatiently. At her side, Starfire too was anticipating my answer.

"Because you're not the only ones whose ancestry lies with the stars. I'm a second-generation Anodite. I was born human, but inherited the Spark from one of my ancestors."

I wasn't certain what reaction I was expecting. Disbelief, accusations I was lying, shock, relief? But nowhere in my imaginings had anger or distrust played a role, and certainly not from the redhead of our trio. The second-born daughter of the Tamaranean royal family floated higher into the air, features twisted with pure undiluted hate as her hands suffused with emerald supernovas.

I was on my feet in an instant, my desk and chair toppling to the floor with a harsh scrape as the same four-ply shield from that morning manifested between us. What the hell was with this reaction?

Luckily for me, I knew, cooler heads prevailed. Moving with that same unnatural speed and grace she had displayed during our test to earn her the number two ranking in our class, Momo leapt atop a desk, placing a calming hand on Koriand'r's chest.

"Kori, no," she soothed her friend. Moving with deliberate slowness, she carefully took the Tamaranean's wrists in her hands, lowering them to her sides. "He's not your enemy. You heard him. He awoke the Spark. We don't even know if he's aware of the history between your people."

Forgoing Japanese and English altogether, Starfire began speaking rapidly in her native tongue; a rough but no less elegant language. Her eyes, hard with contempt, never wavered from my own. Though she didn't speak a word to me, her gaze told me all I needed to know. One wrong move, if I so much as breathed in a way she could justify as threatening, she would wipe me from existence with extreme prejudice.

Allowing my shield to dissipate, I held my hands up in the universal sign of peace. Or so I really really hoped that was how it translated.

"What's going on?" I eventually joined the conversation, earning a poisonous glare for so much as speaking in Star's presence.

Assuring Koriand'r wouldn't attack, Momo turned to me, dropping to the floor. So tense was the atmosphere that I didn't even get to enjoy the way her skirt fluttered about her thighs.

"Tell me, what do you know of the relationship between your kind and Tamaran?"

"Nothing," I hastened to explain. Starfire scoffed, making a show of spitting on the floor. "Really! I only learned what I was less than a year ago. Hell, I've only ever met one Anodite."

"As I expected when you said you awoke the Spark. Anodites are nomadic, never remaining in one place for more than a few generations before they set out in search of the next distraction."

"Okay," I said expectantly. "I'm guessing they somehow pissed off the Tamaraneans in the past?"

This seemed to be the wrong thing to say as Starfire exploded into another blistering tangent. I wasn't sure if I was grateful I couldn't understand her or not.

"Kori, enough!" Momo sighed, exasperated. "He obviously doesn't carry any prejudice. Nor is he responsible for the sins of his ancestors. He's undeserving of this type of behavior."

Starfire turned her glare upon her friend, speaking harsh and low to her. Though I couldn't make out what was being said, I recognized the tone as accusing. I nearly leapt behind a desk when she jabbed a glowing finger in my direction.

I was thankful when, after allowing Star to berate her, Momo responded in Japanese.

"You're projecting onto someone who has no knowledge of what you speak. Really, Kori. I expected better of you," she said meaningfully, garnering a hurt expression from the orange-skinned extraterrestrial. "This kind of behavior will do nothing but further perpetuate the strife and bloodshed that has gone on for centuries. You better than most should know that hate isn't the answer."

As I had expressed to Izuku earlier that day, in so many words, I was no fool. I knew when I could get away with pushing boundaries, bending and disregarding rules when it was to my benefit, and when it was time to bury my head in the sand. Whatever problem she had with my species — damn, if that wasn't an odd sentence — I had no hand in it. I had no intention of learning firsthand just what her Starbolts were capable of.

Hoping they understood the gesture for what it was, I got down on my knees and bowed. The pair fell silent, regarding me.

"I apologize for any offense I may have caused with my ignorance of your history and any part my kind played in it. It was never my intention to make light of what I now realize is a source of great heartache for you." Raising my head, I met Starfire's eyes, which had lost a fraction of their heat. Taking this as a good sign, I continued. "I confess to being excited when I recognized the pair of you. I thought that perhaps we could bond over our similarities. I never paused to consider that my presence could somehow be a source of unease."

Rising to my feet, I held out my hand. "If you want nothing to do with me, I'll understand completely, and will hold no ill will toward you for your decision. I'll not speak to you unless necessary for our lessons. ...But what I would prefer would be if we could start over. Not as Anodite and Tamaranean, but as classmates. Who knows, maybe somewhere down the line you might even come to think of me as a friend."

I didn't try and predict how she would react. So when she nodded her consent, reluctantly I might add, refusing to take my hand, I wasn't surprised. Fucking Naruto and his Talk-no-Jutsu bullshit. I knew it was too good to be true.

Feeling foolish, I dropped my hand to my side.

Before the awkwardness of the situation could grow insurmountable, a disturbance at the door drew our attention. Standing in the entrance was Kyoka. Her eyes were puffy and rimmed red. She had been crying. In that moment, under the scrutiny of three of her classmates, she appeared tempted to turn and flee.

"Jiro," I began, breaking the silence. But when I found I didn't know what to say, I fell silent.

"What?" she all but snapped.

"I… I'm sorry," I eventually managed, wincing at how pathetic I sounded.

Her eyes widened before narrowing. "Oh. So you all know?"

I shook my head. "No. He hasn't told us anything. I just… I guessed what he was going to do."

She scoffed, brushing her dark locks from her face as she strode inside and began collecting her things. "Yeah, well, congratulations. You three put on quite the show."

"What class are you being transferred to? ...Or are you…"

"I've been transferred to 1-B," she bit out bitterly, stowing her belongings away with more force than was strictly necessary. "Someone from their class will be joining 1-A."

"What's going on?" Momo inquired, looking from me to Kyoka and back again.

I swallowed thickly as I explained. "Aizawa. He kicked the person with the lowest score on the assessment from the class."

"What!?" Koriand'r demanded, forgetting to be whatever it was she felt for me for the moment. Surprising us all, she flew forward and enveloped Jiro in a hug. It looked for a moment as if she would attempt to throw the Tamaranean off. But as Star began to stroke her head, humming soothingly to the upset girl, traitorous tears began to spill. "That awful man. As if such a flawed test could possibly measure one's worth of becoming a hero."

"Not even here a day, and I'm already a failure," Kyoka sobbed, clinging to the redhead.

Momo and I shared a look, neither of us knowing what to do or say that might ease her hurt.

"You're still in the Hero Course. That's all that's important for now. You can work your way back into 1-A," I tried to encourage her. "Hell, if you would be interested, we can train together if you like."

Pulling away from Koriand'r, hastily wiping at her eyes, she bobbed her head. "...I'd like that."

"We'll help," Momo was quick to volunteer. "Won't we, Kori?"

Star nodded, though neither Momo nor I missed the loaded glance she sent me. Wanting to press on before she could devolve into a rage again, I was quick to give a rundown of my daily workout regimen.

"Though unless we live near each other, mornings won't work," I mused. "How about we exchange numbers? Once we have something concrete figured out, one of us can reach out and organize how we're going to go about… What?"

Feeling remarkably like Izuku when in the presence of Uraraka, I managed not to squirm under the twin looks Momo and Kyoka were giving me. Thankfully, Star appeared as uncertain about what was going on as I was.

"Wow," Kyoka dronned dryly. Though she was obviously still upset, there was something almost teasing about her tone. "Pretty bold of you, Hoshiko."

"Eh, what?"

"Using the situation to ask a girl for her number," Momo supplied, smirking devilishly at me. "How very slick of you."

"Wha—" I trailed off as Momo giggled and Kyoka smirked. "Hilarious, truly. Playing with my maiden's heart. I'm not so sure I should associate with the pair of you."

"Don't pout," Momo chided, amused. "We promise not to corrupt you. Not too much, anyway."

AN: I thought long and hard about the inclusion of Starfire this early in the story. Whether it was now or later, she was always going to be a part of the story at some point, as will a number of other characters from Teen Titans. And yes, there is a reason why her language skills are so much better in this story than in canon.

As for Kyoka. It hurt more than I care to admit, doing that to her. But I wanted this to be a bit more realistic than canon, as I hope I portrayed with my interpretation of Aizawa.

But fret not, we haven't seen the last of earlobes.

If you liked what you saw or have any critiques, be sure to review.

See you, Space Cowboy