Disclaimer: I do not own MHA nor am I earning money from writing this. As a rule of thumb, if you recognize something in this fic, I probably do not own it.

"I might be going insane" – Normal speech
'It isn't normal to have voices in your head' – Thoughts, Writing
True – The voices in your head

Chapter 7

Izuku stood before the building in excitement and apprehension, firmly gripping his mother's left hand with his right. Inko had a folder tucked under her right arm, full of art that Izuku had drawn since he had first entered the hospital. It seemed like no time had passed at all since the day he returned home from the hospital, and now he would be revealing his talent to the world.

Over the past three weeks, many things had happened. Two weeks ago, school had let out for the summer. With every other day entirely to himself and the rest of them spent with his best friend, the past two weeks had been wonderful for the young boy.

Where he had his free time, he spent it consuming knowledge and practicing skills with the aid of his quirk. Though it had stated that it wasn't a quirk by the medical definition, neither of the two could figure out what the voice in his head was. Izuku redefined the words "my quirk" to refer to the voice in his head, and that patched over most of their problems with the mix-up.

While school was still in session, Izuku had quickly burned through the easiest skills to learn, according to his power. Things like being able to measure distances without the use of his quirk were easily accomplished by guessing how large something was and checking with his quirk until he achieved a high enough accuracy that any further refining should be done by his quirk.

He had eventually given up on looking up words in the dictionary while reading and had instead decided to read the dictionary like it was a book itself. After he had gotten used to the notation used, he read the one that they owned before going to the library and working his way through the larger ones and a medical one that he had found.

Having made this time investment in the early phases paid off, as Izuku had finished the seven other non-fiction books before the week was up.

Inko's life during that week had been much more chaotic. She had a massive influx of people who wanted her to help them move right as the school year ended, whether the entire contents of their houses or the luggage for vacations. She solved this issue as she previously had – she rented out a truck and a driver before mapping out the different places she would need to go.

Halfway through this process, she realized that she didn't need to stress about whether people would have more or less luggage than they reported, she could ask Izuku what the best order was to take the jobs in. Using the statement 'The best order of jobs is to go to this house first', she was able to work through the list, transforming a week's worth of stress and planning into less than fifteen minutes of her son staring at a piece of paper and marking numbers next to the different requests.

The downside of the incredibly efficient planning process was, of course, that she still felt like she should be doing something. So, during that week, she took it upon herself to plan out the exhibition with Mitsuki's contact.

She sat down with Mitsuki and an elderly woman named Oyama Kameyo while Izuku and Katsumi were playing under the supervision of Masaru to iron out the details of the exhibit. Beforehand, Inko's knowledge of art exhibits was that the paintings and drawings had to be put on the walls and people had to be able to walk around and look at them.

By the end of her first planning session, she had learned that there was so much more to it than that. The art was best placed in a way where it gave a sense of progression, whether it was through the artist's life, the seasons of the year, a change in the style or mood of the drawing, or any number of other factors.

There were four large rooms in the community building that they were going to use, arranged in a rectangle. The entryway, which was separate from these rooms, led to a central area from which one could access any of the four rooms. Starting from the front-left room, the plan was to go clockwise with their progression, starting with Izuku's earliest drawings in the hospital and his progression from the skill level of a four-year-old to photorealism. The second room was going to be practically wallpapered with artwork and labels, while the third room held fewer drawings – those that he had drawn once he left the hospital and was back home.

The fourth room, however, would be starkly different from the others, with his first color drawings on poster-sized paper sparsely placed throughout the room, with an area to be roped off for Izuku to draw in-person, dispelling any doubts that visitors may have.

With everything planned out, all they could do was wait. When Inko left to go to work, she dropped Izuku off at the library under the watchful eye of either Mitsuki or Masaru, who were happy to help. Neither of them could believe their eyes at first when Izuku dragged them to the shelves and handed them increasingly odder books, and then proceeded to read them and make notes while they watched.

Izuku had made sure that it was a good idea to read the books he was reading and taking the notes he was taking when they could see, adding just another layer of conditions to his search for reading material.

At first, Mitsuki had tried to suggest that Izuku read something closer to the level of a four-year-old. After some consideration and a quick confirmation that it was a good idea, he opened the medical book he was holding at the time and read the words on the page, before explaining what they actually meant in layperson's terms.

He placed the book in her arms as she stared at him, and gave her the most cheerful smile he could before turning around and walking towards the next book.

Masaru, however, asked no such questions. He just smiled as Izuku handed him the books, willing to humor him, before realizing that Izuku was actually reading the books from the notes he was taking. The notes were odd to him, seeming to pick and choose parts from the books.

When Izuku had finished one, Masaru picked it up and read through it himself, looking for the parts Izuku had taken notes on. The book in question was an elementary physics textbook, and Izuku had written down several formulas straight from the book as well as some conclusions about how they related to things like swordfighting and medical terms that he only vaguely knew.

Neither parent stayed there the entire day, leaving with Izuku at lunch to make sure he ate food and didn't spend all day cooped up in the library. His afternoons were spent running around, playing with Katsumi, and doing other activities that reminded the adults that he was actually four years old.

Both adults had called Inko or spoken to her privately after the first day, letting her know what Izuku was reading. She smiled with pride throughout their stories of Izuku's antics, calling him "my little genius" and other affectionate names before reassuring them that she knew what Izuku was reading.

It eventually turned into a game for them, trying to guess what Izuku would go looking for the night before. Each adult was also happy to teach Izuku their area of expertise.

Mitsuki taught him literary analysis, showing him various common techniques and styles used in writing. Izuku absorbed the knowledge like a sponge, putting it to use later when he was at home, quickly moving through fiction to reach the more important scenes.

When Masaru saw Izuku take a book about programming from the shelves and go through it, he made a note and brought a laptop computer with him the next day, opening it and showing Izuku how things actually worked and allowing him to experiment. In the two hours they spent at the library that day, the older man realized just how quickly Izuku was learning. When Izuku was flipping through books on history or biology, he had no real way to judge Izuku's progress but with his specialty he could see the leaps and bounds the young boy was making clearly.

The first program he ran was a simple "Hello World", as was tradition. He then jumped to what the book was talking about – sorting algorithms – and started typing. Slowly at first, but with increasing speed as he learned how to type efficiently, Izuku worked his way from the most basic insertion sort to a merge sort over the course of a day. Masaru had offered his help, drawing pictures to help Izuku visualize what was going on, which drastically reduced the number of errors his code threw and the number of tries he used before reaching a working code.

It became something of a game for them – Masaru would set up a problem for Izuku to solve or a goal to reach and Izuku would find a solution in their time at the library, typing it up even as he read another book.

But the days passed like water through their fingers, and all of a sudden it was the day before the exhibition and Inko was standing outside the building with folders of art and her son beside her.

"Come on, mom, let's go!" Izuku called out, looking up at his mom. Pulling her towards the door, he knocked as hard as he could before stepping back. Despite the sign on the door telling people that the building was closed, the two of them were here to set up and they knew that Kameyo was waiting for them inside.

The elderly woman came to the door, and while giving the pair a smile unlocked it and let the two in. After a round of greetings, the three got to work.

The first step in their process was to open a folder and show Kameyo the contents, allowing her to make the choices about which drawings should go where. She had already seen some of the drawings as a proof of concept, but now she looked over each and every one with a critical eye, deciding exactly where they should go in the room.

This process repeated itself for each room, with the time it took increasing exponentially for the second room compared to the others. Eventually, all of the drawings were stuck to the wall by Kameyo's Adhesive quirk. They then got to work matching the printed descriptions with the drawings using the numbers that they had written on the corners of both the artwork and the descriptions.

Most were a flat description of the subject and Izuku's name, but some of the drawings had much more detail, telling the observer about the method that Izuku was using when drawing or the new technique he was trying out in the drawing. At just over four hours since they began, all of the folders were empty and there was a barrier set up to keep people back from the art and to give Izuku room to draw in the fourth room.

The younger two left the building for lunch, with Izuku chattering about what he's been doing with his quirk while the adults had been hanging drawings. They had agreed to call it a quirk even if it technically wasn't one after hours wasted trying to find out what it actually was. Izuku had grown more proficient in using it from his time at the library, and he had finally made a list of all of his known limitations.

He couldn't ask questions if he didn't know the right words to use, he could only ask questions as fast as he could think, and his interpretation of the words he used could affect the objective truth but had no affect on the intent behind the question. He had also found that asking questions that were too vague or had loopholes was a double-edged sword – useful at times but mostly aggravating.

With his limitations known, he had been striving to fix them. The knowledge contained in the library was slowly becoming his own, allowing him to look at problems in new ways with much greater understanding. He had begun looking into more long-term goals as well, like what kinds of food he should eat or how much he should exercise.

The rest of their day was uneventful, and Izuku woke up the next morning both eager and apprehensive of the day to come. On the one hand, he would be making his first mark on the world, something that he was rightfully wary of due to his power's insistence on remaining secret. On the other hand, all he had to do was sit in the fourth room and draw to his heart's content.

After a brief confirmation that nothing would go wrong and that this really was a good idea, Izuku went downstairs and ate breakfast with his mom, who had similar reservations about the whole event now that it was upon them.

Izuku and Inko arrived at the building an hour before the event started, taking their time to look at the advertisements and decorations set up on the outside. Upon entering, Izuku beelined to the area where he was going to be sitting today, pulling the first poster-sized sheet of paper and beginning to draw a picture of himself and Katsumi fighting with swords. Inko, on the other hand, took a seat next to Kameyo in the central hub, making sure that she had a line of sight to Izuku in the fourth room.

Just as she was running out of safe conversation topics with the elderly woman, it was time to open the exhibit to the public. There was no massive line out front, but only fifteen minutes after opening the exhibit she was aware of why Izuku's quirk had recommended this day to open the exhibit.

Nearly two weeks into the summer, they had hit the plateau of the number of tourists that would be in the city, visiting UA or any of the other attractions that the city held. At this point, people were returning home just as fast as they were arriving in the city, and the community building that they were located in was both on the main path to and from the major train stations and along several bus routes. Because of these factors, there was a steady influx of people who were baited in by the signs outside and got hooked by the art on display.

Izuku sat in the fourth room, doing his best to ignore the crowd of people murmuring as they stared at him, watching his arm move as he fleshed out the drawing he had been working on.

Unbeknownst to either of the Midoriyas, there was a hidden reason that today had been chosen as the opening day for the exhibition. Not only was there a steady stream of viewers, but today was the day that Pro Heroine Present Mic was taking a day off in her civilian identity as Yamada Hikaru. She happened to be wandering through the city after stopping by UA, and when she passed by the sign for an art display, she couldn't help but step in and check what the fuss was about.

As a child, museums and art displays had never been her favorite. She had tended to lose control of her quirk, causing a massive amount of noise and then being escorted out of the building. Now that she was an adult and a Pro Heroine, however, she had gained much more control over her quirk and stepped right into the building. Following the signs put up to guide the visitors, she stepped into the room to her left.

As she looked at the first pieces of artwork on the wall, she was first struck by just how bad they were. As she was wondering why this warranted an entire exhibit that took up the whole of the building, she read the placard below the first drawing.

'On his second day in the hospital, Midoriya Izuku drew this first drawing of his mother. This is the most accurate representation of his skill before the hospital and sets the stage for all of his future drawings.'

Hikaru was immediately aware that she was missing some critical information, and so she backtracked to the wall of text on the left side of the entryway.

'Midoriya Izuku, aged four, was hospitalized less than three weeks ago in such a way that he was isolated from the outside world, including his friends and his own mother. While in the hospital, he asked for something to play with until he could get out and was given a pen and a ream of paper. In the first two rooms of his exhibit, all the artwork from his time in the hospital is displayed for your viewing pleasure. Please do not touch the artwork and stay behind the line on the floor.'

Hikaru turned over the introduction in her head and mixed it with her observations of the first drawing. It now made a lot more sense that the drawing looked as sloppy as it did.

As she breezed through the rest of the drawings in the first room, there was a slow improvement until the last drawing. This one, like the first, was a drawing of his mother. However, the difference in quality between it and the last drawing was far greater than the cumulative improvements of all of the previous drawing. The subject looked like a real person, with some imperfections that separated it from the subject.

She matched the drawing to the face she had seen behind the desk in the central room before leaving the first room. On her way to the second room, she looked at the younger of the two women behind the desk. If the last drawing was in color, she could easily see the real woman before her with a sense of familiarity.

After the confusion that jumping in blindly had led to last time, Hikaru made sure to read the placard beside the entrance this time.

'The drawings in this room are the collection of the rest of Midoriya Izuku's drawings from the hospital, with a few notable exceptions. According to the artist, there are eight drawings missing from this collection, all of which were given as gifts to the workers at the hospital he was in. Throughout this collection, the artist spent nearly the entire day drawing, experimenting with new techniques and eventually, new materials.'

As she looked away from the placard and properly observed the room for the first time, she was taken aback by the sheer number of drawings tiling the walls. As she made her way through the room, taking much more time than the last, she noticed that there were two kinds of drawing in the room, independent of technique, clarity, medium, or anything else. There were normal drawings – people, places, buildings, and so on – and then there were the oddly surreal ones, with shapes too angular or too smooth, landscapes that made her wonder if there had been any hallucinogens in her breakfast until she looked at the normal drawing right below it.

Even though there were only a few colors of pen and varying shades of pencil, the drawings had a strange sense of life to them.

After nearly an hour spent in the second room, she moved to the third. At a glance, the drawings here were already different. There was far less empty space, the drawings had a very different theme, and there were far fewer of the surreal landscapes.

The placard read, 'This room contains a portion of the artwork produced by Midoriya Izuku after he left the hospital and returned home. With access to the internet and a library of knowledge about artistic technique, his style was further shaped by famous artists of the past and present.'

The descriptions of the artwork in this room were slightly more fleshed out than the last, with details like the location the art was representing and the artists he took inspiration from. She spent nearly an hour in this room as well, spending a great deal more time on each individual drawing.

Before she entered the fourth and final room, she was stopped by a sign in front of the entryway.

'Please remain quiet in this room. Do not disturb the artist without explicit permission from either the artist or his mother, who can be found at the front desk.'

Nodding and reinforcing her iron grip on her quirk, she made her way into the final room. Around the walls, poster-sized drawings in full color attracted the attention of a fraction of the viewers in the room. They were far above the quality of any of the previous drawings, but the main spectacle in the roped-off area in the center of the room drew the attention of the vast majority of the people in the room.

Hikaru, unfortunately, was not the tallest person. She was below-average height for a woman, and had no way to see what everyone was looking at. As she walked around the drawings, she marveled at their quality. She considered herself an aspiring artist, hoping to go into music at various points in her life before deciding to become a heroine. As she saw the detail in each of the drawings, she couldn't help but wonder what the difference between them was.

He was a quirkless boy, a fifth of her age, and yet he could become better than most of the pre-quirk artists and a great deal of quirk-assisted artist over the course of a few days while stuck in a hospital.

She shook her head ruefully. There was no use complaining about things, only changing them.

As she reached the halfway point around the room, she noticed that the poster there was more significant than the others. It was the only framed artwork in the entire exhibit, and it was yet another portrait of the boy's mother. This time, however, it was a full-body image of her with a child holding her hand, and both of their eyes invoked an emotional response when she looked at them.

The drawing was labelled 'The Midoriya Family', with a brief description that confirmed her suspicions that the younger boy was Midoriya Izuku, the artist. Looking to her right in anticipation of another drawing, she noticed that the wall was empty.

She looked back at the drawing, looking at the eyes of both Midoriyas. The boy's eyes were nearest to her eye level, and looking down at them filled her with a strange sense of hope. It was an odd combination of feelings, both his image's hope and her response as a hero of determination and inspiration.

Looking up at the mother's eyes, the first emotion that she felt was fear, quickly followed by love. If she had to put words to the feeling, it would be like a mother bear was staring her down in defense of her cubs. She was in awe – how had he managed to imprison such emotion within a piece of paper? As far as she knew, that wasn't possible as with even the best art-related quirks she knew of. Maybe someone else had used their quirk on the artwork after it was finished?

She brushed off her confusion, thinking that it wasn't worth worrying about, before trying to make her way into the crowd surrounding the center of the room. As she worked her way to the front, she saw the boy from the final drawing sitting on the floor, putting the finishing touches on a drawing of himself fighting a girl his size with a sword.

Behind the girl were explosions – beneath her feet, behind her hand, even small pops and sparks in the trail of her blade. The boy had no such effects – he stood there with nothing but his body and his blade, visibly straining in the image as their blades clashed in the middle, throwing off several sparks.

After the drawing was finished, the boy set down his pencil and stood up. The room, which had been oddly silent until then, was filled with soft applause as the boy looked around him at the gathered crowd. Blushing, he turned in a full circle before running to the edge, ducking under the rope that made up the barrier and making his way to the entrance to the room as the crowd parted before him.

Less than a minute later, he returned to the room with the two women from the front desk. His mother, who he was pulling along by her hand, gracefully stepped over the barrier and picked up the drawing from its place on the floor using some form of telekinesis. Over the next five minutes, the pair of women fixed the drawing to the walls on the right of the framed drawing.

The trio left the room again, with the mother and son returning quickly with a blank piece of poster-sized paper to replace the one now hanging on the wall. The artist sat down next to the piece of paper, wondering what he should draw next as he shot nervous glances around the crowd. His mother, noticing this, glared around the room, causing most of the crowd to disperse, either going to the walls to look at the art there or leaving the building.

As her eyes met Hikaru's, the pro heroine felt the same combination of fear and love that she had felt from the drawing of her. Nonetheless, she stayed to watch the boy begin his next drawing. After several minutes of thinking, he began, steady hands marking lines on the blank canvas. Over the next half-hour, the fundamentals of the scene had been drawn – some sort of park or forest trail with a series of footprints leading into the background.

At this point, however, the boy's mother re-entered the room, carrying two plates of food and some utensils. The drawing was pushed to the side as they ate lunch, with Hikaru leaving shortly after they began.

As she walked out of the community building and re-entered the rest of the world, she felt oddly relieved. It wasn't obvious at first, but by the time she made it back to her house, there was a noticeable difference in how calm she felt when she thought about her three hours in the exhibition. A smile appeared on her face as she thought of something.

'I know exactly who I'm dragging there tomorrow.'

The Next Day…

Yamada Hikaru had an overly cheerful smile on her face as she dragged her best friend from school towards the art exhibit. Aizawa Shiko, her antisocial friend who was also known as Eraserhead, sighed once more at the enthusiasm her friend was displaying and weakly pulled against the grip Hikaru had on her wrist.

Hikaru turned around and spoke, the smile not leaving her voice. "Come on, Shiko, you need to get out more. You can't just spend all day curled up in a sleeping bag or fighting villains, live your life for once."

Shiko grumbled. "And you aren't letting me choose how I want to 'live my life' because?"

"Because you wouldn't know what to do! Come on, I found this yesterday, and if it can't break through that shell of yours I'll have to resort to… extreme measures."

The pair had arrived at the art exhibition, which was much busier this time than yesterday. Fortunately, there were no lines stretching out of the building so the two could enter immediately.

Shiko was not remotely as interested in the art as her friend was, and despite her wishes she had to work her way through every picture on the walls.

Shiko, unlike her friend, possessed an advantage when looking at the artwork. By the time they entered the third room, the difference was even more visible to her enhanced eyes than it would ever be to the average person. Where before she could see the gaps and imperfections, there were abruptly far fewer. The gaps were filled in, imperfections straightened out, the smallest details now visible to the vision of the critical woman.

When they entered the fourth room, she was almost captivated by the drawings lining the walls. By the time she moved on to her third drawing in that room, Hikaru was growing impatient. After nearly an hour, the two had worked their way through the first fifteen drawings, stopping at the family portrait.

Shiko felt the stares of both subjects, briefly activating her quirk to make sure that it wasn't a quirk-induced effect. After a healthy amount of time observing the only framed piece of art in the building, they moved on to the latest additions to the gallery.

First was the drawing of Izuku and a girl clashing swords, followed by a path in the woods, and the final addition from the previous day was an image of the sky dotted with clouds.

As soon as Shiko looked away from the final drawing, Hikaru took the opportunity to drag her friend to the front of the much larger crowd. As she watched the boy draw, her curiosity grew until she activated her quirk to get a better look at what he was doing. As her gaze roamed over the paper, it was clear that he had actually drawn all of the previous drawings – there was just no way to fake that level of detail while drawing something.

As her line of quirk-aided sight crossed the boy, however, he tensed up in an odd way. He looked up, looking around the crowd until he met Shiko's eyes. Looking back down at the paper, he finished the part he was currently drawing before setting his pencil down and walking out of the room.

He returned less than a minute later with his mom in tow, briefly pointing out Shiko to her before moving back to his spot on the floor.

Inko looked at the woman her son had pointed out to her and the woman who was holding on to her wrist. After hesitating briefly, she activated her quirk and dragged the both of them through the air towards herself, leaving the room with the two of them in tow.

Shiko was caught off guard, and before she could use her quirk to cancel the effects of the one holding her in the air, she was no longer facing the woman responsible. Hikaru, also caught unaware, briefly considered using her quirk before realizing that she couldn't open her mouth.

The angry mother carried the two pro heroines into the office behind the front desk with a curt nod to the oldest woman before shutting and locking the door. As she turned the pair around so that she could stare at them properly, she prepared her rant.

Izuku's POV, Three Minutes Ago

Izuku was happily drawing his latest scene – All Might fighting a giant robot – when he noticed that something was off. It always felt like he was being watched, but this felt more intense somehow.

'I'm being watched.' True.

'I'm currently in danger.' False.

Izuku sighed internally, before going through a series of other questions. In a matter of moments, he arrived at a conclusion.

'Someone is using their quirk on me.' True.

'The quirk being used on me is making me feel like I'm being watched.' True.

The boy looked up, his eyes sweeping around the crowd, repeatedly asking 'This person is using their quirk on me' until he received a positive response. Memorizing her appearance, he looked back down and finished shading in a detached panel of the robot. Then, he set his pencil down before dashing through the crowd. They weren't fast enough to part for him this time, so he made a quirk-aided run between and around the legs of various people until he was free. Running to where his mom was sitting at the front desk, he quickly climbed up the chair until he could whisper into his mother's ear.

"Someone in there tried to use their quirk on me." Izuku whispered. "I know it's based on line-of-sight but I didn't want to waste time finding out what it was. Can you…"

Izuku was cut off as Inko's eyes sharpened, head jerking towards the exhibit. Speaking just as softly, she whispered back to her son. "Can you point them out for me, Izuku?"

At his nod, Inko stood up and walked to the room, walking next to her son. This time, the crowd parted before them. Izuku pointed at a woman on the far side of the room, and Inko nodded before activating her quirk. In a flurry of motion, she had lifted the two women out of the crowd and had turned them around so that neither of them could use their quirk. Holding them as still as she possible could, she left the room to have a chat with them.

Izuku calmly sat down, going back to his art.

With Inko

As she turned the two women around, one of which had the audacity to use her quirk on her son, Inko spoke in a grave tone.

"I'm going to let you go now. If either of you uses your quirk before you leave this room, there will be hell to pay. Am. I. Clear?"

Removing her iron grip over the movements of their heads, both of them nodded quickly. As they took their seats before her, she took a moment to compose her own speech.

"Let me tell the two of you a story. Less than a month ago, my son came to me and told me that he'd been hearing voices in his head. I had to take him to the hospital and stay away from him for the longest three days of my life. So, when he comes to me and says that something feels wrong and singles out the person causing it, I feel like taking matters into my own hands. So, which of the two of you was suicidal enough to use your quirk on my son?"

Though her tone was calm, the deathly chill they felt as a result of it was anything but calming. The two women before her shook before Shiko owned up to her mistake.

"It was me. I regret that I caused this, I was using my quirk to look at his artwork better before I focused on him and-"

Office supplied began to float in the air behind Inko, freshly sharpened pencils pointing at the woman who had responded.

"You have thirty seconds to convince me to not send one of these through your bicep. I assure you; I am perfectly capable of it and it will feel very painful."

Shiko began to explain as quickly as she could. "My quirk is called erasure; it lets me turn off the quirks of people that I look at. It also helps me look at things more closely, which is what I was using it for back in the room."

Here Hikaru chimed in. "Yeah, that's right. I've known her for a pretty long time, and she isn't lying. My quirk isn't at all related, and it's definitely not silent."

At the joint confession, Inko was partially satisfied with their answers, allowing most of the pencils to drop back into the pencil cup with one falling into her hand. The adrenaline rush began to wear off as well.

"I hope that you understand my disappointment in the two of you, and I want the two of you to know that you are banned from returning to my son's exhibit. It would be for the best if the two of you were never to meet me again."

Her sentence was punctuated by the sound of the door unlocking behind the two of them.

"Now, I would appreciate if the two of you would get out of this building before something bad happens."

The pair scrambled out of the building. As they returned to Hikaru's apartment, the two thought about their encounter with the angry woman. The two of them were pro heroines, trained to defend society from villains, and a single woman had taken the two of them down in less than two seconds.

It was a harder blow to their egos than anything else, and they would definitely be training harder in the coming months to prepare for scenarios like that, where their quirks were facing a hard counter.

Author's Note: I have obtained permission from the wonderful Epsilon110 to use the gender bent names from his fic, Total Command. So far, only three of them have been used: Bakugou Katsumi, Yamada Hikaru, and Aizawa Shiko to replace Bakugou Katsuki, Yamada Hizashi, and Aizawa Shouto respectively. Future instances of this will be made and hopefully explained in the story but will nonetheless be listed in an Author's Note at the end of the chapter.

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