Chapter One:

If Izuku had a hidden quirk, it was probably attracting villains as he was trying to go about his everyday life.

As he rounded the end of the grocery store aisle, Izuku was already composing his excuses to Aizawa in his head. I was picking up a few dinner items for Mom when a robber showed up. Total coincidence.

Wind blasted from the robber's hand. The shelf fell over. Izuku leapt over rolling cans of soup.

Yes, I know civilians are supposed to cooperate and prioritize their own safety in event of an armed robbery. I stayed quiet and memorized a description for the police. Then the cash register wouldn't open, and the cashier started crying, and the robber was about to use his quirk on her. My body moved on its own. Maybe not that last part—Aizawa might think he was refusing to take responsibility for his own choices.

"I'll kill you, you green-haired rat!" the robber screamed, throwing a blade of wind at Izuku.

He dodged sideways. I tried to run around and stall for time until the authorities arrived, Mr. Aizawa, I swear. I avoided fighting as long as I could.

At the frozen section, Izuku screeched to a halt. A young girl holding a stuffed bear cowered on the floor. All the customers had run away when the fighting had started—how had she gotten left behind?

No time to ponder. Izuku had no more choices left. Summoning the green crackling light of One for All down his arm, he turned to fight. No, Mr. Aizawa, I don't expect you to buy any of my excuses. I think the amount of trouble I run into is ridiculous, too.

Izuku's lips peeled back into a savage grin. The robber halted. The eyes peeking out of his black ski mask no longer looked quite so confident.

The air whirred. Both Izuku and the robber turned their heads to spot an elderly woman in an electric wheelchair, sneaking along the other end of the aisle and gesturing her arms for the girl to come to her.

The robber grinned and lunged for her. Izuku couldn't afford to let this turn into a hostage situation. He moved even faster.

First, Izuku grabbed the girl. Then he leapt over the robber's head and kicked him in the stomach. The robber reeled, then called up a tornado around his body.

Setting the girl down, Izuku planted himself protectively in front of both of the civilians.

"Take this, young man," the old lady cried, grabbing the back of his shirt. Her hand glowed white.

At the same time, the girl cried, "I want my mommy and daddy!" Pink sparkles exploded from her and struck Izuku's back.

It didn't hurt, so it didn't distract him from the threat. With one punch, Izuku sent the robber flying back into the wall. The man groaned, then went silent.

Izuku stared at his arm. It wasn't broken? A good thing, obviously. But he hadn't done anything differently. It must have something to with one of the quirks the civilians had hit him with.

The old lady said, "You didn't need my help after all. Excellent job!"

"You two aren't my parents," the girl said, addressing someone behind Izuku.

Izuku turned around. As the pink mist cleared, two children stood on the tiled floor blinking under the florescent lights. The older boy looked perhaps eleven years old, with messy white curls falling over his red eyes and freckled cheeks. The younger boy had straight white hair covering one eye. The other eye was green eye with a white pupil. The exact same shade of green stared back at Izuku in the mirror every morning.

"What kind of metahuman ability would do this?" the older boy muttered, sounding more intrigued than afraid.

The younger one tugged on his shirt. "Big brother, where are we? I'm scared."

"You're safe," Izuku said, imitating All Might's reassuring smile. "I'm a hero student. I'll protect you." He gestured at his U.A. uniform.

This did not produce the reaction he'd hoped. The older boy wrinkled his nose. "Did you just call yourself a hero? What are you, a cosplayer?" Disdain dripped off each word. "If you're going to act like a chuunibyou, you might as well embrace the label and call yourself Superman instead of a mere 'hero student.'"

Izuku blinked. Most of people wouldn't have recognized the reference to Superman, but Izuku was a fan of old comic books. The younger boy had a red Superman logo on his shirt. They hadn't made DC merchandise in decades, and this shirt looked about that ancient. Both boys wore ragged, dirty shorts. Izuku felt a pang of concern about their bedraggled state. "The authorities should be here soon." Perhaps that would reassure these two, since they clearly didn't trust him.

The younger boy gasped. "Then you need to escape right away! Don't you have a metahuman power? I saw your arm glow! They'll take you away!"

"Metahuman power?" Izuku started muttering. "No one has called them metahuman powers in over a century. Is this mind manipulation or time travel? The former would be easier to deal with but the latter looks more likely." He remembered himself and turned his smile on the younger boy. "I'm in no danger, I promise. What you call 'metahuman powers' are quite common now."

"Really?" The older boy perked up. The younger one clung tighter to his brother, his eyes darting around the messy grocery store.

The old lady took the girl's hands in her own. "Thank you for saving my granddaughter. Her quirk is that she can summon her family members when scared. It seems she accidentally used it on you."

The girl looked at boys. "I don't know these two. I've never summoned someone else's family before."

"That's my fault." The elderly woman sighed. "I have a quirk that enhances other quirks. I was trying to help you—didn't realize you didn't need it." She inclined her head at the unconscious robber. "Both our quirks struck you at the same time. I powered up her quirk and we summoned up your relatives instead. Are you brothers? You three look very much alike."

She was right: the older boy could have been a white-haired copy of Izuku at age eleven. Izuku would suspect his father of cheating, except he'd already concluded it was probably time-travel. "I don't know these two. Unfortunately, I think they're my relatives from a long, long time ago." He tried to keep a calming tone so as not to upset the two children. "What are your names?"

"I'm Hisashi, and this is my younger brother, Yoichi." Hisashi jerked a thumb at the boy peeking out from behind his back.

His long-absentee father's name? What if it was a family legacy? "May I ask what year it is to you?" Izuku was prepared to be asked why, but something in Hisashi's gaze suggested he'd already reached a similar conclusion.

When he heard a number more than a century and a half ago, Izuku felt faint.

"Tell me what year it is right now," Hisashi demanded. Yes, he'd clearly already figured it out.

Izuku wet his lips. "Before I do, this may come as a shock, so please know that you have nothing to be afraid of. The authorities will arrange someone to look after you until you can return home." He glanced at the girl. "How long does it usually take before your quirk wears off?"

"Wears off?" She nibbled on the ear of her bear. "It doesn't wear off. My parents usually take a cab back to our apartment with me. Once I got my aunt, and she was annoyed because she had to take a plane all the way back to Hokkaido."

Yoichi whispered, "Big brother, does this mean we can't ever go back to our own time?"

Of course, that was two reporters burst through the open door.

A woman with donkey ears thrust a microphone at Izuku's face. "Who defeated the villain?"

"Uh, me, and I'm afraid the robber hasn't been restrained yet. You need to leave, ma'am." Izuku put his body between the unconscious robber and the civilians. The man might wake up at any moment. Izuku looked around for something to use to tie his hands.

The old woman ushered her granddaughter toward the exit. The two brothers declined to follow her despite her gestures at them.

"Ah, a hero student committing an act of vigilantism!" The reporter's eyes gleamed. She hissed at her cameraman, "Move over here." Bending down next to Yoichi, she asked, "Did you ever feel threatened by this student's reckless use of his quirk?"

Yoichi stared up at her with wide, confused eyes. "I can never go back home? What will happen to me and my brother?" He burst into tears.

"Ooo, get a close-up of his crying face," the reporter said with entirely too much glee.

"Leave him alone," Hisashi growled, wrapping his arms around his brother.

"Stop that!" Izuku ran back over. Taking off his jacket, he threw it over the boys to hide their faces from the camera. Recklessly exposing the identities of two time-travelers might attract potentially dangerous attention. He was determined to prevent Yoichi from saying anything revealing what had happened on live television. Bending over the boy, he said, "I promise I'll help you. I won't leave you until you're safe."

Yoichi sniffled. "Why would you care?" he asked suspiciously.

"I'm a hero. Sticking my nose into other people's business is in the job description."

"Cool," Yoichi whispered.

Wait, where was the other boy?

Izuku glanced over his shoulder to see Hisashi march over to the reporter, draw back his leg, and kick her in the crotch with all his strength.

Even a woman would feel pain after such a forceful blow to a sensitive location. The reporter doubled-over, howling.

A familiar voice barked, "All civilians, evacuate immediately." Detective Tsukauchi stood in the door, holding his badge out. Several more police officers followed after him.

Izuku really, really wasn't looking forward to explaining any of this to Aizawa.

It was illegal to interview a minor without the presence of a guardian. However, when the two officials from the Hero Public Safety Commission had shown up, they'd pulled rank and intimidated the policeman on duty into handing over two interrogation rooms. Then they'd separated the two brothers.

Hisashi Shigaraki sat in a metal chair too big for him, swinging his legs. The metal table in front of him had a chain link for holding handcuffs, but of course no one had restrained a child. The lights were normally kept overly bright to disorient prisoners, but they'd been dimmed to a normal level.

A middle-aged woman sat across from him. She wore a grey pantsuit with a wool cap covering her hair. Her sunglasses had a metal lock on the back, so they couldn't easily be removed. She held a notepad. Bright red lips pursed into a smile, although it was difficult to read her true expression under her heavy makeup. "There's no need to be afraid. I'm here to ask you a few questions. Then I'll help you find a new home. What's your name?"

"Hisashi Shigaraki." He regarded her with a calm gaze, his raised eyebrow implying he'd never been afraid in the first place.

"Age?"

"Eleven years old."

"Your younger brother's name and age?"

"Yoichi Shigaraki, age eight." Emotion flashed in those red eyes. "You could have interrogated us together. He's still very upset, and I don't like leaving him alone."

"We want to ask you a few questions separately, then you'll see each other again soon enough. Do you have a quirk?"

"That's what you call metahuman powers, correct? No."

"That's surprising, with your eye and hair color." The woman assessed him through her sunglasses. "Some of the first generation didn't discover their abilities until very late in life."

Hisashi tilted his head. "May I take it from your tone that it's considered bad not to have a quirk in this time period?"

"Of course not. It's merely uncommon, but everyone is treated equally in this day and age."

Hisashi snorted. "Now that I don't believe. What percentage of the population is without a quirk now?"

"Twenty percent." The woman answered without thinking, then remembered herself. "I still have some more questions to ask you. Someone later will tell you about the modern world, okay?"

Hisashi muttered, "Most of that twenty percent is probably in the older generation…the balance of power has definitely shifted. Are some types of quirks discriminated against?"

"How did you possibly guess that? You've barely seen the outside before you ended up at the police station!" The woman gaped, her pencil falling out of her hand.

"Because you're hiding your quirk." Hisashi pointed at her hat. "A gorgon ability?"

The woman touched her head self-consciously. "Did my snakes hiss? Usually I can control the hissing."

"I figured it out from the sunglasses being tied on." Hisashi leaned back in his chair. "It can't be comfortable for snakes to be stuffed under a hat, so I'm guessing you hide them because people don't react well."

"It's only natural for people to be nervous of someone whose gaze can turn them to stone." The woman spoke with a note of anxiety.

"It doesn't work. Being one of the 'good ones.' You think if you just act normal enough, you'll finally fit in, but you're only teaching people that it's easy to step on you."

"Excuse me?"

Hisashi shrugged. "Free advice is worth what you pay for it, so you don't have to listen to me. But I can't help noticing despite all your efforts to avoid scaring people with your quirk and spout the party line, you still got passed over for a promotion recently."

"Mind-reading quirk?" the woman whispered.

Hisashi laughed. "Hardly! Your age alone suggests that you should be assigned more important tasks than interrogating an eleven-year-old. I noticed you arrived with a partner much younger than yourself. You're obviously intelligent and professional, so you haven't been stuck at the same rank due to lack of competence." He delivered the compliment with a heart-melting sincerity despite his young age. "In addition, I briefly saw a job listing on your phone screen. You've gotten tired of being passed-over, understandably. But as long as you keep cowering before people who judge you, it will keep happening wherever you go. Maybe it's time for you to let them fear you a little instead." His tone was reasonable, gentle, and unnervingly compelling.

The woman nodded along before she caught herself. "I'm supposed to ask the questions—"

The metal door flung open. Principal Nezu of U.A. strode into the room, his dark eyes furious and his snout twitching. "This is completely unacceptable! Where are these children's legal guardians?"

The woman jumped. Sheepishly, she said, "They don't have guardians, so—"

"That's not a loophole. That means you should obtain guardians before going near them. Step outside. I have a message for you to deliver to the Hero Public Safety Commission." Nezu's lips pulled back in a snarl.

"Whoa. Now that's a cool ability." Hisashi finally sounded like a regular eleven-year-old as he gazed at the animal chimera with awe.

Glancing at Hisashi, Nezu modulated his tone. "I'm sorry, I hope you weren't too scared. Follow me. I'll take you to your brother."

In a second interrogation room, the interviewer was a man with orange-red hair and muscles nearly bursting out of his suit.

Yoichi Shigaraki's eyes were red-rimmed from tears, but he glared defiantly.

The Hero Commission employee asked, "What's your name?"

"Name: Yoichi. Rank: Little Brother. Serial Number: One-Five-Six-Nine-Nine."

"What the—?" The man pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're not a prisoner of war. I just need to ask you a few questions."

"Ha! You're not going to trick me into narcing so easily! Name: Yoichi. Rank: Little Brother. Serial Number: One-Five…" Yoichi's brow furrowed as he tried to remember the number he'd made up. "Nine…Nine…Six?"

"How old are you? What year did you come from?"

"Talk to the hand because the face doesn't want to listen, boomer. I'm not giving you anything. Big brother says that if people want to know about the past, we might be able to sell that information for money." Yoichi clamped his hand over his mouth. "Oops! You tricked me! No more talking. Name: Yoichi. Rank: General. Serial Number: Nine-Nine-Nine-Nine-Nine."

"I see you gave yourself a promotion." The man rubbed his forehead. "Look, little boy, if you want payment, how about this?" He rooted around in his pocket and found a candy bar. "I'll give you this after you answer my questions. Sound like a deal?" His smile was strained.

"How dare you ask me to betray my brother for such a cheap bribe?" Yoichi bared his teeth. "You pigeon-livered, bougie bitch."

The man jumped, both at the venom in the last word and because it had been spoken in English. Yoichi proceeded to curse him out in a truly impressive mixture of Japanese, English, and Chinese. With Shakespearean English, 21st century slang, and a few Korean swear words mixed in.

Raising his hands, the man said, "Hey, calm down, let's just—" He looked at his own empty palm. "Where did my candy go?"

Across the table, Yoichi unwrapped the candy bar and took a bite.

"Give that back! You're only supposed to get it after you answer my questions! And I only have one!"

Yoichi crammed the chocolate in his mouth as fast as possible. His cheeks bulged as he continuing to spew curses even with his mouth full.

It frankly came as a relief to the Hero Commission employee when a bear-mouse-creature came to take the foul-mouthed child away.

Outside the police building, the man from the Hero Public Safety Commission pulled out a cigarette.

His partner held up a lighter. She asked, "Was your subject as disturbing as mine?" Her hands shook slightly.

The man shrugged. "He certainly didn't make it easy. From his skill with languages, I would guess that he came from a good family originally, but he's been living on the streets long enough to pick up a colorful vocabulary. I can only hope he doesn't know the meaning of most the threats he shouted at me, or he's had a very rough life. That's all I got before I was thrown out. How about you?"

"I think the boy got more information out of me than I got out of him." The woman's lips quirked ruefully. "Even hardened villains have never given me the run-around that badly. There was something very strange about that child." She shuddered. "Or maybe I'm losing my touch. Do you think that's why I didn't get that promotion?"

"What? Of course not." The man puffed on his cigarette. "You didn't deserve to be passed over for a kid half your age. It's no secret that our boss cares far more about your quirk than your work record. I've heard him say some stuff about you—" He hesitated. "I've tried to tell you this before, but you didn't seem to want to hear it. If you're finally angry enough to go to human resources, I could help you build your discrimination case."

"You know what? I think I'll do that." The woman flashed a pair of fangs.

Izuku sat in the police interrogation room with his hands folded across over the metal table. He'd already given his statement to Detective Tsukauchi and gotten a lecture on vigilantism. Then he'd texted his mother to explain why he'd be missing dinner.

Afterward, the police had released him, but he'd refused to leave until someone told him what would happen to those two kids. He'd made a promise to that little boy with green eyes just like his own, and he intended to keep it.

He took a sip from the cup of water on the table. He'd already eaten the bag of chips Detective Tsukauchi had given him.

Aizawa pushed open the door. "I'm here to feed you, problem child." He placed a steaming cup of instant ramen on the table.

The smell made Izuku's stomach rumble. He almost went straight to gulping it down, but remembered to say first, "I'm sorry, Mr. Aizawa."

"You've got nothing to be sorry for this time." Aizawa scowled, but it wasn't directed at Izuku. "You were placed in a situation where you had no choice but to fight. The cashier testified that she would have been murdered if not for you. U.A. will back you up. Nezu already changed the tune of the news report by threatening to sue them. All Might had a word with Detective Tsukauchi and got him to issue a public statement that you only acted in self-defense."

"Thank you." Izuku slurped the ramen. "What happened to those two boys who got yoinked out of time because of me? I kept asking, but no one would tell me where they were."

"None of this was your fault, so don't put it on your own head." Aizawa took a seat across from Izuku. "The police wouldn't talk to you because they're taking the privacy of those two children very seriously, which isn't a bad thing. The brothers are alone and vulnerable and don't need massive media scrutiny. The Hero Public Safety Commission has already taken an interest in them."

"Is that a bad thing?" Izuku asked. Aizawa's tone implied it might be. Izuku knew very little about the commission from his short period of time at U.A.

Aizawa rubbed his forehead. "I wouldn't trust the commission to keep a cactus alive. They care more about time-travel than about the safety and security of two defenseless children. Would you believe they separated the kids and put them in interrogation rooms?"

Izuku flinched. "I should have stopped them."

"I don't see how you could have done that, problem child. Fortunately, Nezu's connections came to the rescue again. He threatened all kinds of trouble if the commission didn't get their noses out of the situation. I learned the brothers have been placed with a foster home. The police will be sending an expert in time-travel to look into their situation tomorrow."

Izuku stared at his remaining ramen. "If I accidentally summoned my ancestor into the future, am I going to disappear? If my ancestor vanishes as a child, then I'll never be born."

Aizawa paled. "I never thought of that."

"I've been worrying about it quite a bit," Izuku admitted softly. His own situation was bad enough, but what if those kids turned out to be his ancestors on his mother's side? Then it would be all his fault if his mom disappeared.

"I'll send your question to the time-travel expert. If it turns out you're in any danger, we'll find a way to send those kids back. I swear it."

"Thanks," Izuku mumbled. He knew Aizawa couldn't promise any such thing, but he appreciated the sentiment.

"I asked if you could have permission to visit the children, since you wanted to check-up on them, on the grounds that you're a distant relative of theirs."

"That would be perfect."

"The police agreed, but they would like you to take a DNA test. It's not a condition of the visit—it's more like some people want proof that the kids are telling the truth, and you being their descendant would seal the deal."

"I don't mind." Izuku set down his empty cup of ramen. "Let's do it now."

Aizawa said, "We can take a DNA sample here, but since you're a minor, we need your mother's permission."

Izuku was already reaching for his phone. "I'd like to visit those kids as soon as possible. I don't want them to think I've forgotten my promise."

Inko answered on the first ring. "Izuku, are you heading home yet?"

"Sorry, Mom, it might be later than planned. I'm going to visit—" Izuku hesitated. He whispered, "Am I allowed to tell her?"

Aizawa replied, "We're keeping the time-travel secret from the general public, but I got permission to tell your mother because of her involvement. She may be the children's closest relative, so she has the right to petition for custody if she desires."

"Did someone say custody?" Inko sounded confused.

Quickly, Aizawa and Izuku filled her in on the whole situation.

"The older boy's name was Hisashi?" Inko's tone sounded surprisingly cold. "What's his last name?"

"Shigaraki," Aizawa said.

Izuku startled—he hadn't known that. The same last name as that jerk who'd attacked the Unforeseen Simulation Joint? Dear god, he hoped Tomura wasn't a distant cousin of his.

Inko giggled. It turned into a hysterical laugh. "No, I don't have any interest in taking custody of him. In fact, I'd rather he not come anywhere near me."

She'd said "he" not "they." So it was entirely Hisashi she objected to? Could this really be solely on the basis of him sharing the same first name as Dad? Izuku knew there was trouble between his parents—the fact that his dad hadn't even called home, much less visited, for as long as he could remember had been a less-than-subtle-clue. But he'd never heard as much hatred in his mother's voice as when she'd demanded that Hisashi not come near her. What had Dad done to make Mom hate the sound of his name so much?

"Of course, no one is going to force you." Aizawa sounded surprised.

Izuku had some questions for his mother, but he'd save them for a private moment. "Mom, they'd like to take a DNA test in order to verify that the children are my distant ancestors—"

"No!" Inko shrieked.

Izuku blinked. "I don't see why not—"

Inko's voice dropped to a growl. "Listen, if you take my son's DNA then I'll sue everyone even remotely involved. I'll sue U.A. for putting my son in danger at the Unforeseen Simulation Joint." Not just anger but also a note of raw, animal fear lurked in her voice. "Izuku, don't you dare let them! If you do, I'll withdraw you from U.A."

"Mom!" Izuku gasped. How could she threaten that? She knew this was his dream. Surely his mother wouldn't say something like that lightly.

A sob came from the other end of the phone. Izuku's heart fluttered. Inko cried her heart out. These weren't her usual emotional tears, either. He could tell the difference. She was truly in a state of terror.

"Mom, I won't take the DNA test. I promise."

Aizawa cleared his throat. "Ma'am, no one can test your son without your permission. He's a minor. I apologize again for my failure at the Unforeseen Simulation Joint, but I hope you'll allow him to stay at U.A. He shows great promise as a hero."

"You're his teacher from—?" Inko's tone shifted to panic. "Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't mean that the way it sounded! I was just so afraid…Izuku, please. Don't let anyone take your DNA."

Izuku's stomach twisted. He could hear his mother crying again. "I promise on my vow to become a hero."

Inko inhaled deeply. In a small voice, she said, "Thank you."

No other explanation seemed to be forthcoming. Izuku would definitely be asking his mother about this later.

But then All Might knocked on the door with a cheerful, "I am here!" Izuku turned his attention to the present.

Inko threw the phone at the wall. The impact echoed loudly in the empty apartment. The sound returned her to her senses. Gasping, she ran to check her screen hadn't broken.

Cradling the phone in her hands, tears streamed down her cheeks. She gripped the kitchen counter and tried to stand up. Her legs shook too hard. She collapsed to the floor, covering her face with her hands.

Into her fingers, she whispered, "It's okay. They're keeping the children a secret from the public. Izuku promised not to take the DNA test. He won't find out. No one will find out."

Tomura Shigaraki opened the office door without knocking, as was his usual practice. "Sensei, I wanted to show you the latest report—"

He stopped abruptly. His teacher clearly wasn't listening to him. All for One stared at a TV screen.

A reporter shoved her microphone into the face of a green-eyed boy. He burst into tears. Then someone threw a jacket over his face.

All for One stopped, rewound, and played the clip again.

"Sensei?" Tomura asked, shuffling his feet. He failed to see anything noteworthy about this rather banal scene of an NPC acting mildly horribly toward a child. Just another sign of the corruption of society.

A strangled sound came from All for One's throat. Because his teacher had no eyes, it took Tomura a moment to recognize the sound of crying.

Tomura took a step backward. His mind whirled. This was impossible. Nothing ever made Sensei cry. Hearing his teacher sob made Tomura feel like a frightened child watching his whole world collapse.

All for One snapped, "Tomura, get Giran on the phone. I need the location of those two children, right now."

That tightly controlled rage sounded more like his usual teacher. "Of course, Sensei." Tomura leapt to obey.

OMAKE TIME!

Omake: Aizawa's Headache

News Reporter: We've received reports of a grocery store robbery foiled by a young hero student. Is this heroism or an act of vigilantism? Join our experts as we discuss.

Aizawa: PROBLEM CHILD!

Yamada: How did you even know it was Izuku?

Aizawa: (Already putting on his coat.) Teacher's instinct.

#

Omake: Inside the Void

First: AHHHHHHH!

Banjo: What's wrong with him? Who are those children Nineth is talking to? Huh, they look like a miniature First and All for One.

Second: Uh, those actually are First and All for One. They traveled through time.

First: AHHHHHHH!

Banjo: Yikes. At least All for One doesn't know?

Second: Their faces got splashed across live television.

First: AHHHHHHH!

Banjo: Who can say if he'll even watch the news report?

Second: The announcer was talking about how an accident happened with a rare quirk but the police are refusing to reveal the truth. He always watches news about rare quirks.

First: AHHHHHHH!

Author's Note: This story will update once a week on Sunday.

This is my first time using Yoichi to star as the First in a long fic! I'm looking forward to fleshing out his character. I've dropped some hints in my previous stories that he has an even worse relationship with his older brother than my other versions of the First. In this story, I plan to explore why. Especially given that at his current age, Yoichi loves his big brother so much.

The story starts after the U.S.J. Arc but before the U.A. Sports Festival Arc. Keep in mind that no one knows All for One is alive yet.

I commissioned the amazingly talented tunafishprincess to draw the cover art for this fic as a birthday present to myself. Happy Birthday, Me! You can find the larger version of the cover art by deleting the spaces below:
tunafishprincess.
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post/660878557272227840/art-commission-for-the-lovely