The True Meaning of Heroics!

By: bunnyscribe (AO3)

The two point robot goes down with a creak, smashing into the ground. It sends thousands shards of broken machinery flying outwards, the pieces tapping against the glass windows of the already crumbling building next to it.

Seventy percent.

Mob cautiously steps over the carnage, already lifting a hand to push at the next one pointer in front of him. It's almost too easy to destroy the bots, just a simple nudge with his quirk sends them straight down to the ground and their fragile bodies crumble against it.

He feels a little bad wrecking them though, they look very expensive. Every time one of them goes down and snaps in two, Mob thinks of his own school and it's outdated textbooks with ripped pages and cracked spines. He wonders how many new books even one of these robots could buy. The thought certainly doesn't help his growing nerves as the timer ticks down.

He walks around the arena, a stark contrast to all the other potential students who move in a frenzied hurry. All of them are clamoring for points and it shows, each one using their quirks in vastly different ways in order to subdue the robots. Sometimes Mob lifts his hand to find a robot already in bits, scorched, or covered in a sticky tape.

The next robot Mob comes across is a two pointer, racing towards him with weapons at the ready. He starts to raise up his hand, when a series of explosions erupts towards his left.

The blond boy who was sitting next to Midoriya comes rocketing in, propelled by the explosions from his hands. At the last second before he crashes into the robot, he throws his hands in front of him, hitting the bot with a well timed blast.

Smoke floods Mob's vision, dropping his visibility to near zero. The thickness of it makes him cough and he brings a hand to his mouth to cover it.

Luckily, it clears rather quickly; leaving only him, the boy standing a crossed from him, and the chard husk of a robot that's still trying to squirm on its last bit of power.

The blond from before sneers at Mob, looking him up and down as though sizing him up. "Stay out of my way," he finally snaps, apparently coming to a conclusion. And then he's off again, soaring through the sky with a trail of bright red blasts and smoke following him.

Mob blinks and stares after him, trying to process what just happened. He doesn't get long though, a one point robot rounding the corner of one of the buildings. He lifts his hand, only to be interrupted again by a string of tape that shoots out from nowhere, wrapping itself around the robot.

"Sorry!" a black haired boy calls out to him as he starts to swing by, that same sticky tape stringing out from his elbows.

"One minute left!" Present Mic's voice erupts at the same time from the speakers, as loud and exuberant as it is in person.

Seventy nine percent.

Mob feels a sudden onslaught of cold throughout him at the words, his eyes still tracking the boy swinging through the air. He forgot to keep track of his points, he thinks, he has no idea of his score. What if he fails this? What will he say to his master then? What would he say to Midoriya? The emotional vacuum inside him churns, the feelings to much to store entirely away, to try to convert them into something useable.

It's at that moment that all hell breaks loose.

A green mountain of a robot emerges from the ground, the concrete crunching as it rises up to a towering height. The groan it emits echoes through the alleys of the constructed city. Mob watches panicked students appear from around it, rushing past him to avoid any injuries from a robot that's worth nothing to them. Mob raises a hand, catching all the rocks that come at him and the escaping students, gently brushing them out of the way with his quirk.

This is dangerous, Mob thinks, someone's going to get hurt.

And, as if fulfilling a prophecy, a giant chunk of stone drops from the sky, hitting the boy swinging away from it his tape. Mob sees it rip, watches as the boy plummets to the ground head first, sees the stone following right behind him.

Mob acts without thinking, arm lifting and enveloping both the boy and the stone in a kaleidoscope of color. He gently placed them down, a distance away from the bot. The boy doesn't get up.

The robot takes a step, the ground breaking under the weight of its giant feet. It groans again with the movement. The bright reds of its eyes seeming to barely register where it's going as it clips the side of a building, sending another rain of debris down.

It's heading right towards the boy again, Mob realizes with a jolt as it moves past him. And once it reaches the boy, who knows what other students are lying beyond the wait, injured or trapped under chunks of rock he didn't catch.

Eighty two percent.

It's only Mob who can stop it now. The rest of abled bodies students are gone. Only Mob can help now, and that just doesn't seem fair, but it's all he can do now.

He focuses on the robot's center, testing it with a push of his telekinetic energy. It stops in its tracks, it's chest creaking. The head turns in different directions, as if trying to find the source of the power.

And then, with a slightly stronger push, Mob puts a clean, circular hole straight through it. It crumbs like a tower of building blocks, falling backwards. Gears and sparking wires fall out of the hole, hitting the ground like shining comets. Mob watches it collapse, groaning and creaking the entire way down.

"Time's up!" Present Mic sudden shout erupts over the speakers, barely audible over the chunks of huge machinery embedding themselves in the earth. "The exam is over!"

The robot finally finishes falling apart, the head landing last and cracking directly in half. The resulting crash reminds Mob of the boy's descent and he turns to check on him, finding him woozily attempting to sit up.

"Hey," Mob calls as he rushes over. "Try not to move too much, you've been injured."

The boy picks up his head and Mob can see the trail of blood leaking down from his scalp, catching on his eyebrow. One of his eyes is completely shut, the other squinting against the harsh light of the sun, reflecting off the buildings and machinery around them. "Wh-What?"

Mob kneels down next to him, trying to recall his master's first aid training for head wounds. He hesitates before ripping off some of the bottom of his gym shirt to press again the wound. It's as not sterile as his master probably would have liked, slightly damp with sweat from all the walking Mob's done in the heat, but the bleeding takes precedent Mob thinks.

The boy winces when the cloth brushes the wound, hissing. "Oh, ow, that hurts," he says, voice sluggish.

"You're not swelling or bleeding from anywhere else, so it doesn't seem like your skull is fractured," Mob says. "It also looks like the wound is pretty shallow. You're very lucky."

The boy just looks at Mob, his eyes squinting and brows furrowed together. Without even looking too closely, Mob can tell one pupil is bigger than the other. A concussion then.

"What's your name?" Mob asks.

The boy blinks slowly. "Sero Hanta."

Mob nods, moving the cloth away from the wound and finds that it hasn't quite stopped bleeding. He puts it back. "You have a very neat quirk."

"Hey, thanks," Sero says after a moment, a small painful looking grin appearing on his face. "You do to from what I've seen in between running around this place!" His expression changes into something Mob can't place and he slowly glances over Mob's shoulder, face suddenly going slack. "What happened there?"

Mob turns to see what he's looking and finds the robotic remains of the zero point robot. "Oh," he says, "It was coming towards you. I was scared it might crush you under its feet, so I stopped it."

Sero gapes at him.

"It's not a big deal," Mob says, feeling a bit embarrassed at the dumbstruck expression on Sero's face. "Why did you want to come to U.A.?" he asks, attempting to change the subject.

They talk for a little bit longer. Mob tries to keep asking questions to keep Sero from nodding off. He doesn't think he's very good at coming up with interesting material, but Sero seems out of it enough for it to matter much.

A couple robots soon appear, carrying a stretcher and chanting that they're medical bots. The idea of sending the injured boy away again with robots so soon after fighting so many makes Mob feel a bit queasy, but they seem to know where they're going. Mob helps them lift Sero onto the it, the canvas dipping with his weight.

"See you in school," Mob says.

Sero grins and throws him a thumbs up. "Hey, you too!" he says, before the medical bots take him away.

.-.-.

The door itself is nothing remarkable, a solid wood found throughout the rest of the house. The window in the hallway casts it in a soft warm glow, illuminating it just enough that Ritsu can see a small indent from an incident when Mob was demonstrating his quirk by tossing around Ritsu's alphabet blocks.

The letter and reason behind Ritsu's hesitation crinkles as he clutches his hand into a fist. He brings it up, tries to look at again only to find that the sender still hasn't changed.

His brother's behavior as of the last few weeks has been suspicious at best. Disappearing until odd hours, spending more time texting on his phone, going to that fraud's agency even more often than usual. It all boiled to a head when Mob left a few days ago, saying he was going to take a high school exam and came back around three hours later with visible signs of exhaustion.

Ritsu hadn't been able to pin down a cause to the behavior, though he knew it had something to do with Reigen. The man always seemed to putting ridiculous ideas in his brother's head with his fake brand of heroics and wonky moral compass.

It didn't help that his brother was also ridiculously tight lipped about the entire matter. Any questions about where Mob had been or what he had been up to were met with a wave of the hand and a request not to worry about it.

If anything, the longer he went without answers, the more worried Ritsu got. He could feel the stress buzzing around inside of him even now, a staticy feeling of pure energy that put him constantly on edge. It was getting to the point where his classmates could tell something was off with him and went out of their way to give him a wide berth. Tokugawa-sensei had even pulled him aside after the student council meeting to tell him that he either needed to deal with the source of his stress before the impending explosion or at least take a couple days off to relax.

Ritsu takes a deep breath, steeling himself to deal with the source that lays right behind this door. He lifts his hand to knock at the same time the door opens.

"Oh, Ritsu," Mob says. He glances up and down the hallway, as if expecting someone else to appear, then back at Ritsu. "Did you need something?"

Face to face with his brother, Ritsu feels all the accusing words he had planned slip from his head. "Ahh," Ritsu says, ever eloquent.

Mob blinks at him.

"You got," Ritsu says, "You got a letter." He shoves the envelope towards him. the muted red of the U.A. wax seal starkly contrasting again the crinkling paper. Ritsu watches the realization dawn on his brother's face, eyes widening by a fraction.

"Thank you for bringing this to me," Mob says. He takes the letter from Ritsu's rigid grip with gentle hands, as if the paper might crumble apart if he holds it wrong. "I appreciate it." He goes to shut the door, jolting when Ritsu shoves his foot out to stop it.

"When were you going to me you applied for U.A.?" He doesn't mean for the words to come out bitter but they do, each one burning his tongue on its escape.

Mob at least has the decency to look guilty, tilting his head to the side. "If I got in," he says, "I was going to tell you all at dinner."

Ritsu grits his teeth. "Did Reigen put you up to this?"

"He suggested it," Mob admits, frown deepening. "But it was my decision in the end."

Ritsu can't help the surge of satisfaction at being right, but even that's quickly replaced with worry. The cocktail of negative emotions swirls inside of him, the energy of them funneling into a ridiculous quirk he can't even control. The thought only fans the flames even more.

A hand claps against his shoulder, jousting Ritsu out of his thoughts. "Ritsu," Mob says, gaze steely. "Please do not worry, it's not good for you."

Ritsu bites his tongue. "I just want to be there for you brother," he says instead of all the other things on his mind. "I would like to be able to support you in someway."

Mob hums, glancing between the letter and Ritsu. He opens the door again. "Would you like to look at the results with me?"

Ritsu stares, feeling whiplash from the unexpected response. The tension between them lessening slightly. "That," he says, "would be nice."

Mob nods and retreats back into his room.

Ritsu follows hesitantly, as he slips in he fights the feeling that he doesn't belong there. His brother's room is similar to Mob himself in terms of plainness. A single futon lies unmade in the middle of the floor, the sheets rumpled in a way that makes them look like they haven't been washed in a while. A bookshelf sits next to it, full of old textbooks and novels with ripped covers that are probably older than both of the brothers combined. There's an empty spot in the corner where a desk used to be, but Mob had donated it to Ritsu a few months back, citing that he preferred using the kitchen table for homework where their mom could help him.

Mob had plopped down onto his futon and was in the process of gingerly ripping the envelope open. He pauses, patting next to him to signal Ritsu should sit down as well. Ritsu does.

Mob finishes opening the envelope only to have a small circular disk roll out of it. The brothers only have time to glance at each other before a flash of light erupts from it, coating the room in a thin blue glow as a hologram appears.

Can they really afford this? Ritsu thinks, frustrated at the ludicrous amount of money the gadget must of cost.

Immediately after that though, his train of thought promptly directs itself off of a cliff, as the beaming face of All Might bursts into the frame.

"I am here as a projection!" the number one hero booms. "Kageyama Shigeo! As a new staff member of U.A., I wanted to personally congratulate you! You not only passed the written portion of the exam, but the practical exam as well."

Feelings squirm around in Ritsu's chest, he does his best to ignore them.

"Not only that," All Might continues. "I would like to talk to you about your heroic actions on the battlefield. See, you scored forty five villain points! Normally, this on its own is a phenomenal achievement. However!" The man gestures, finger pointing upwards in a way that uncomfortable reminds Ritsu of Reigen's eccentricity. "That's not all the exam was grading for my boy!

"For your actions against the zero point robot, for how you stepped in to help another person in need, the school has chosen to award you fifty rescue points! Which brings your final score to…" The man pauses, seemingly for dramatic effect, but with each second that passes Ritsu can feel his chest constricting more. "...ninety five points, claiming you the top score among your peers! Good job lad, I am looking forward to seeing you at school where you can progress even farther! Say it with me now! PLUS…ULTRA!"

The hologram freezes, All Might's enthusiastic grin frozen in time. Ritsu can feel himself gaping as he turns to his older brother, only to find him blankly staring at the flickering screen.

Well , Ritsu thinks, the hum of energy lessening slightly as some of his worry ease. He turns back to the smiling face of All Might. At least that's one thing less to be concerned about. After all, nothing bad can happen with All Might around.

.-.-.

The entrance to U.A. looks a lot bigger when there aren't as many people going into it. The potential students from the exam have been weaned down to the actual students, who walk through the gates with freshly pressed uniforms and carry brand new backpacks.

Mob and Reigen stand a ways away, with Reigen fussing over Mob's tie. He had insisted on meeting Mob right outside the school despite missing out on potential clients at the agency.

"Alright," Reigen says, stepping back in order to admire his handy work. He nods to himself, bringing a hand to his chin. "Perfect! Alright, are you ready to smile Mob?"

He also had insisted on bringing a little, disposable camera that he had brought at the drugstore with Mob a few days ago. He claimed that the proof his sidekick was attending the top school for heroics would help drum up even more attention to his business.

"I'm ready Master," Mob says.

"Alright! Say cheese!" Reigen says, pulling the camera's viewfinder up to his eye.

"Cheese," Mob says flatly. The camera clicks, emitting a blinding flash for a second before it goes off again. He blinks, trying to clear the spots from his eyes.

"Ahh, Mob, I think you might have blinked. We can just take it again though, but we should hurry so you're not late. Here, I wasn't expecting the flash, let's just see if I can...turn...it...off...Shi-I mean! Shoot! I think the switch is stuck. Mob, can you come look at this? I think-"

"Hey! Mob-kun!"

Reigen and Mob's heads snap up from the camera simultaneously, both catching a tiff of curly green hair rushing towards them. Midoriya wears a grin that runs cheek to cheek and is reminiscent of the number one hero. He's waving as he runs, as if worried that Mob wouldn't see him if he isn't calling as much attention to himself as possible.

He skids to a stop in front of them, slightly out of breath. "You really made it in!" he says.

The texts between Midoriya and Mob hadn't stopped over the course of the last few months, the chat logs now taking forever to scroll through. However, they had both agreed that when the results for the exam came, they wouldn't tell each other if they got in or not, and surprise each other on the first day. Mob had an inkling that Midoriya had gotten in though, judging by the amount of exclaimation points on his texts that sent the same day Mob got his results.

Mob nods, passing the camera back into his master's hands so he can fully turn to Midoriya. "Midoriya-kun," he says. "You got in too, it looks like your training paid off."

Midoriya positivity beams, face a slight pink. "Ye-Yeah, well I mean, I couldn't do it without support from people like you and Al-uh, my mentor." His face softens a bit, eyes watering. "I'm really thankful for all the help I've gotten."

Mob considers this, giving Midoriya an even stare. "I didn't do much," he finally says, saving the other boy from his nervous fidgeting. "You shouldn't dismiss the effort you put into it."

"Oi, Mob," Reigen interrupts. Izuku's head jolts towards him, as if just realizing he was there. "You gonna introduce me to your friend?"

Mob nods. "Master, this Midoriya-kun. I met him when I was running once. Midoriya-kun, this is my master, he's a hero from Spice City."

A hungry look appears in Izuku's eyes that's directed at Reigen. "You're a hero ?" he asks, voice squeaking.

Something unreadable to Mob crosses Reigen's face for a split second, but he quickly slips into a dazzling smile that Mob mostly sees used on clients. "Yep," he says, popping the 'p'. He sticks out a hand towards Midoriya for a shake. "Reigen Arataka, better known as the Illusionist, top hero in Spice City. Pleased to meet you."

Midoriya reaches out and grabs it, shaking it with more force than probably necessary. Reigen's resulting grimace seems to go right over his head. Mob recalls a similar face from a time when he had accidentally removed the doorknob to Reigen's apartment when adjusting to the strength his regime with the Body Improvement Club has given him.

"This is amazing," Midoriya countiunes, voice breathy, "I didn't even know there were heroics agencies in Spice City anymore! I thought they all left when the city when the city went pretty much bankrupt and poured the remaining funds into the police force."

Reigen blinks at Midoriya. "Sounds like you've done your research," he says appreciatively, releasing his hand and straighten up. "Yeah, Spice City was a tourist city so when the tourist left, the money did too. And heroes get paid a lot more than the police, so," he smiles ruefully, "I'm the only hero left actually based in the city. Occasionally the pros from surrounding cities come in if there's a problem big enough though."

Midoriya frowns, "Isn't that a little dangerous for you though? Like, if you couldn't deal with a villian on your own, it would take a while for backup to show right?"

"Exactly," Reigen snorts. "I've been trying to say the same thing for a while now, but no one in government really listens. Inner Spice City is poor enough that news crews are scared to go there, so pros prefer to stick to the outskirts where the richer people live to get more publicity and thus, more pay."

Midoriya hums, pulling a fist to his mouth. "So the poorer parts of Spice City get even more poorer and more crime riddled without the presence of heroes." The realization sparks behind his eyes, like two wires clicking together. "That's…not good."

Reigen snorts again, "Hey Mob, I like your friend."

"Yes, Midoriya-kun is very smart," Mob says with a confirming nod of his head as he turns away from the bird he had been absent mindedly been watching. Like most of the conversations Reigen had with him about hero politics, most of what had been said went over Mob's head. But from what he could catch of it, it seemed like his master had found a person with similar dedication to studying the heroics industry. "He's helped me with school work sometimes over text," Mob adds for good measure.

Midoriya flushes. "Ahh, we-well, that was no big deal!" He jolts as if suddenly struck by lightning. "Oh yeah!" he says swinging his bright yellow backpack to the ground in front of him. He frantically unzips it, digs around inside, and pulls a slightly charred notebook that Mob recalls seeing on the beach. "I want to put you in as an entry in my hero analysis journal if you don't mind," he says, flipping through the pages. "Mob has a really powerful quirk, so I'm sure you do too to be able to teach him such precise control over his." He seems to find an empty page, pulls a pen out of his pocket, and presses against the page, eager to write. His eyes find Reigen's face again, beaming. "Could you describe it to me?"

A thin glean of sweat appears Reigen's forehead at the question. Mob notes how mouth puckers like when he sucked a sour candy and immediately spit it out. "Aah, well you see…" He trails off for a moment, before making a small clicking sound with his tongue and pointing towards the sky, a wobbly smile overtaking his features. "My quirk is very, very intricate! It would take quite a bit of time to explain the details, time that we don't really have now if you two don't want to be late! Midoriya!" His hand swings down, pointer finger narrowly avoiding swiping Midoriya's face. "What class are you in?"

"Uh," Midoriya says, the notebook lowering in his hands. "1-A?"

Reigen furiously nods, a hand coming up to his chin as he grins. "Excellent, excellent. Mob's in the same class as you then!" He picks up Midoriya's backpack, thrusting it into his hands and almost knocking the journal out of them. He puts a hand on Midoriya's back and a similar one on Mob's shoulder, herding them towards the gates. "Off we go then!"

As they're been pushed, Midoriya throws Mob a look that he can't read. Mob shrugs in return, and then given one last unceremonious shove through the gaudy, electronic gates of the school.

"Have a good first day, Mob!" Reigen shouts as they stumble into a steady walk.

"Your master…" Midoriya says after a moment, looking over his shoulder towards the gate as he walks. "...is weird."

Mob only hums, "He's a good person."

To be continued…

Chapter End Notes

Yay! We've finally made it to the first day of school! :D Hope you guys are excited as I am for what comes next!

I also just want to take a moment to thank all of you guys for reading this story, seeing all the kudos and comments always really brightens my day. Writing this story is so much fun for me and I'm so excited that I get to share it with all of you guys, to see you all interact with it is such an amazing feeling. Honestly, thank you all.