Killua knew Aizawa was both a Pro Hero—a generously paid profession—and a teacher at apparently one of the most prestigious schools in the world. So why did his current "guardian" live in such a boring apartment?

The building as a whole wasn't so bad. It mainly looked to house studio apartments for those with extra money deciding to live on their own, but as he stepped into Aizawa's apartment, the first thing he noticed was how horridly bland everything was. Because no effort was put into decorating the interiors, it left his home down to its bare essentials; a couch and television in the living room, a kitchen with absolutely no color variety, and just one tidy bathroom. It was like his entire home had experienced an extreme minimalist movement. Before he had the chance to peek in Aizawa's room, he was blocked by the man in question's arm.

"Don't go in there," he said. "I'll grab a futon for you so you don't have to sleep on the couch."

Killua made a noise of acknowledgement and plopped down in front of the TV. Reaching for the remote, he said, "Can I get a phone with that, too?"

"For?"

"I wanna learn about where I am."

He hesitated, looking at him with scrupulous eyes. "I only have one phone, and I don't know if I trust you enough to mess with it."

"And yet you trust me enough to sleep in the same apartment..." he groaned in annoyance.

No reply was made, and Aizawa disappeared into his room. Killua found himself sluggishly channel surfing, giving each station about three to five seconds to successfully capture his attention. It wasn't until he switched onto a news station his interest was piqued; U.A. High School's hero course students were attacked by the League of Villains at USJ in a plot to kill the symbol of peace, All Might. Recalling the way Aizawa quickly hid information about a "USJ attack" as he was snooping over his desk's documents, he safely assumed he was involved in it.

About a week ago, seventy-two criminals were captured, their leader's current whereabouts unknown. So this was the dreaded League of Villains both Nezu and Aizawa were so cautious about him being entangled with? Thinking about it gave Killua an itch, one he didn't remember how to scratch. His senses felt heightened, entire body tingling with anticipation as he tried to imagine what it was like for the hero students as they fought against completely unfamiliar enemies. Part of him almost felt like he wanted to experience that.

"Here," Aizawa said as he watched him step back into the living room. He held a futon, and he motioned for Killua to get his feet off the ground so he could place it.

Suddenly, he had an idea.

Devilishly grinning, he said, "Hey, Homeless-sensei. Neither of us know what my quirk is."

He raised an eyebrow. "And?"

Getting up off the couch, he started stretching, cracking his knuckles as the impatient teacher waited for him to continue. Exhaling as he finished, he said, "Why don't we find out?"

"...I don't like where you're going with this."

"You fight villains for a living, don't you? If I'm such a threat, this is a good opportunity to neutralize me. Scope out my abilities, if you want."

"You say that like you actually are." Disinterestedly moving to set the futon against the wall, he said, "I'm not going to make an effort fighting someone for no reason."

"Fine, then I'll give you a reason," he said, pausing for a moment. Maybe he'd budge if there was something in it for him... "If I win, I get to use your phone. But if you win, I'll stop calling you homeless."

Aizawa almost scoffed. "There's no way you think I care that much about what you call me."

"Ah, come on, old man!" he whined. "It hasn't even been an hour since I've been in your apartment, and I'm already bored when all I want is your stupid phone."

"So when you're bored, you start a fight?" For the first time, he watched as his constant appearance of apathy morphed into a taunting smirk. "No wonder Nezu thought you were a threat."

From all of this, Aizawa was supposed to be the one who felt fed up, not Killua. And yet, that's exactly how it was at the moment. He almost wanted to furiously run out the door and leave on his own, but boring-old-stupid-homeless man would come chasing after him with that scarf of his as soon as he dashed towards the door (that was one way of starting a fight, but it felt way too much like some cheap tactic.) The scarf actually did make him curious about what it was made of and why he chose it as his weapon, but the only two ways of getting his questions answered were either talking to him or fighting him; and he knew both of them preferred different options. Still, he found himself carrying out the former as he finally sat back down on the couch, feet up off the ground this time. All that stretching for nothing, he thought.

"What's your quirk supposed to be?"

Crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall, he said, "Erasure. I can temporarily erase people's quirks by looking at them."

"Use it on me."

Aizawa let out an actual laugh. Grabbing the futon, he finally was able to set it down on the ground since Killua's feet weren't in the way. He began walking back to his bedroom, but stopped right outside of the door. Turning his head to face Killua, he said, "Go to bed. School starts at 8:25."

"Huh? It's still so early..." It was only 7 PM, and judging Aizawa by looks alone, he wouldn't be surprised if he were a frequent all-nighter. Also, there was no way he'd be able to sleep after getting himself fired up for an unfortunately rejected fight, and he didn't know how Aizawa expected him to do just that.

"Instead of fighting villains, I have to keep you here. I'm using this time to catch up on my sleep."

"Hey, you haven't even answered me about your quirk, yet."

"I'll use it when I need it. By the way, don't even think of leaving while I'm in there. I'll know if you do." And on that note, Aizawa disappeared behind the door as he shut it.

Stupid, how's he supposed to know? Killua thought, but he knew better than to give into the temptation of running away. He knew there was no real place for him to run to, but that just made him more frustrated with his current situation because he was ultimately trapped.

Turning his attention back to the TV to soothe his thoughts, he noticed they were still talking about U.A. High School. Only, the topic changed from the USJ attack to an upcoming sports festival they held apparently every year.

This whole hero school thing kept Killua's mind working harder than it should. Even with amnesia, it was such a foreign concept to him; heroes and villains in general. Nezu had briefly touched upon the topic during their little meeting, but there was so much more he wanted to know, like, what exactly makes a hero in society's eyes? What makes a villain? He couldn't form an answer to either of those questions, and he didn't think he ever could while his mind was without its memories. So, for now, he decided he'd try and figure out what his quirk was.

He held his hands out, palms facing up as he stared at them and waited for something to happen. Quirks could be absolutely anything, and he was determined to catch at least a hint of what it was. It wasn't even guaranteed it'd be something to do with his hands, but he assumed instinct would become one of the major factors in the whole process.

"Come on," he mumbled to himself, squinting his eyes as he tried hard to focus.

If everyone at U.A. could use their quirks well enough to come out of a villain fight alive, he should at least be able to feel something, no matter how small. But as he found himself silently counting the lines across his palms, he realized nothing had changed in the ten minutes he'd been staring at his empty hands. His back fell straight on the couch as he loudly groaned in exasperation. Weren't quirks supposed to be as simple as breathing? Nezu had described it as an extension of one's body, but there was absolutely nothing he could detect past his four limbs.

Maybe his quirk was like Aizawa's, where it'd only be noticeable when other people are present. But trying to view it through that perspective instinctively felt so wrong. Either way, trying to bring out his quirk right now was proving to be useless.

He chose to watch TV until he felt tired enough to sleep. If he were being honest with himself, he hadn't felt the least bit tired ever since he woke up in the infirmary. Although, by the time he noticed still sunlight shining through the windows, he decided a short nap would suffice. Just in case.

A shower, small breakfast, and an awkwardly quiet trip later, it was now 8:24 AM; exactly one minute before Aizawa's class started.

"You're pretty late for a teacher," Killua teased, but sadly got no visible reaction.

"Just follow me," he said, and hopped inside.

Hopped, because for some reason, he decided to show up to school wearing a bright yellow sleeping bag that was zipped up right under his face.

As the yellow potato sack entered the room, he could hear the loud conversations of the students quickly die down.

One foot in the door, and a familiar voice resonated throughout the room.

"EVERYONE! Please take your seats, Aizawa-sensei is here!"

A silent beat passed, and as fast as the conversation died, everyone's attention immediately turned to the mysterious white-haired boy who entered their classroom for the second time (albeit more conventionally than the first.)

"Hey, it's Zoldyck!" the bubbly girl from yesterday gushed, cheerily waving at him from her seat.

"He's back here?" an unrecognizable voice said.

"Woah, the guy who lost his memories?"

"Aw, he looks like a cute little doll!"

"No way! He's like Todoroki if he only had ice..."

"What kind of a name is Zoldyck?"

And slowly but surely, the roar of conversation was just as loud as it had been before. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Iida sucking in a big breath. Probably another loud reprimand against his fellow students.

"EVERYBODY! PLEASE CALM DOWN!"

That got their attention.

Clearing his throat, he continued, "I know there are many things you have to say about Zoldyck, but please refrain from further derailing our class schedule!"

He turned around to face Aizawa, and the teacher gave him an affirmative nod before he sat down at his desk.

"It took you a full minute to shut up. Don't make me go through that again."

The class professed their apologies in unison, one hand over Killua's mouth as he attempted to hold back his laughter.

"Anyway," he continued, "the sports festival is in a week. I expect you've been hard at work, training to do your best."

Some determined nods came from the students as they listened to their homeroom teacher. Killua recalled what information he gathered from the news while it reported on the sports festival. From what it seemed, it was just a big contest to see who was the strongest out of a big group of young teenagers. It was odd to him, but then again, most things were.

"Put on your gym clothes, we're heading out."

Murmurs and groans came from the students, but they still managed to efficiently follow directions as they walked out the door to get changed. Killua found Aizawa staring at him once everyone had left.

"What?"

Before wobbling out the door, he answered, "Don't make a fool of yourself."

"Huh? What's that supposed to mean?" Killua asked, mostly just saying it to himself since he'd already left the room. Clicking his tongue, he followed the teacher out the door.

Killua lagged behind Aizawa as they made their way towards the P.E. Grounds. As he got closer to the group of students waiting for their teacher, their interests were again on him. Though, they hesitated to strike another loud conversation since Aizawa was closely approaching.

"We're going to be doing hand-to-hand combat training," he said once he reached his desired post. "No using quirks."

Students were shocked over the additional direction, scratching their heads and expressing quiet distaste.

"But, Aizawa-sensei," one student piped up, "isn't this the complete opposite of what you told us the first time you brought us out here?"

"No, Sero," another with a high ponytail answered. "That was to gauge our quirks' capabilities in regular school activities. Since hand-to-hand combat isn't generally taught, Aizawa-sensei wants all of us to learn the basics without the interference of our quirks."

"Quirks make us stronger anyway, though. Wouldn't it drag us down if we didn't learn to use them like this...?"

"Yeah! I wanna make my fighting style stronger through my quirk!"

"Quiet down," Aizawa scolded, and the class shamefully complied. "Ashido," he specified, looking at a pink-skinned girl with black sclera, "you can't have a fighting style if you still don't know how to fight." Ashido pouted, but she continued to pay attention as the teacher carried on his lesson to the rest of the class.

"Those who solely depend on their quirk will be put at a disadvantage once they're in a situation where they cannot use it. If things ever come down to that, you'll be forced to depend on your own combat skills, which, I've noticed a few of you are already well-versed in. Still, this is something everyone in class should experience at least once. Specific things like punching, blocking, dodging, should come naturally if you have good combat sense, and that's something I can't teach.

"Today, we will be sparring against each other in pairs. Change your partners every eight minutes. Good luck," he said, as he started a timer.

With that, the students picked their partners and immediately started fighting. Killua noticed a few students who Aizawa was likely referring to when calling them well-versed; some guy with a tail and one with a bunch of arms standing out the most. They weren't fighting each other, but in their separate battles he could tell they had the most experience in close-range combat out of their whole class. It was probably due to their quirks simply adding on extra limbs instead of some other magical-esque aspect, so they pretty much had to learn this way of fighting.

The rest of the class?

Their skills were laughable. Some students, such as one with odd two-toned hair and another with ashy, somehow spiky hair, had decent experience, but they were still considerably sloppy or predictable. There was an enormous gap between the first two students who stood out to him and the rest of the class, and a probably even wider one between the class as a whole and their homeroom teacher.

"She's going in for a kick, stupid," he mumbled out loud as he spectated one match. "Don't fall for it agai—and... you fell for it."

This was the supposed number one hero school in the world? If these were the students they were pushing to be top heroes, it was embarrassing.

"You look happy," Aizawa sarcastically observed, still speaking from inside his sleeping bag.

Killua noticed his brows had furrowed as he was scrutinizing the students. Looking in Aizawa's direction, he simply said, "They're bad at this."

"And you're one to judge?"

Shaking his head, he said, "I saw how the news talked about that USJ attack. Either those villains were actual shit at fighting, or those quirks you told them not to use are really, really powerful."

He made no reply, only a small grimace upon hearing him swear. Instead, a small student with weird looking balls on his head walked up to Aizawa. Actually, he more or less crawled over there, since he somehow already had bruises starting to form all over the visible parts of his body, as well as having a beat up bloody nose.

"C-can I go to Recovery Girl...?"

A grunt came from Aizawa. "Go ahead."

The eight minute timer went off, and students scrambled to find their next match. Except for one...

"OI! NO ONE WANTS TO FIGHT ME?!"

It was the ashy haired boy Killua observed earlier. It seemed everyone had chosen their partners, and one student leaving to get taken care of by that hag caused an odd turnout.

"Fine, then. FINE! AIZAWA-SENSEI!"

Something about the murderous tone in his voice being mixed in with the formal declaration of Aizawa's name made him crack up. That attracted the angry teen's attention, as he now glared daggers at Killua.

An even deeper scowl formed across his features. "What's so funny?!"

"Nothing," he said as he raised his hands in fabricated innocence, holding back a smirk.

"What is it, Bakugou?" Aizawa deadpanned.

"They're too damn scared of fighting me!"

"That's not my fault."

"IT'S NOT! BUT YOU'RE THE TEACHER!"

A long exhale escaped his mouth. "Then wait until the next time we switch."

Bakugou let out a small string of curses before grudgingly taking his suggestion, standing with his arms crossed and a sour expression on his face. Killua thought that'd be the end of it until he caught his angry gaze.

"What are you still doing here, anyway? You're not a fuckin' student."

"Bakugou," Aizawa scolded.

"Yeah, you're right," Killua grinned. "If Homeless-sensei let me, I'd be here as a teacher!"

"A...teacher...?" Bakugou seethed. "ARE YOU LOOKING DOWN ON ME, FREAK?"

Man, it was almost too easy.

"Duh. Teachers are supposed to be better than their students, right?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Bakugou's fists clench tighter, his fingernails daring to break through the skin of his own palms. "You're a fucking amnesiac. You're not supposed to know shit about combat, pretentious asshole."

Killua admitted to himself that the angry porcupine had a point. He hadn't been in a single fight (thanks to Aizawa for turning him down!) and he had nothing to go off of other than his instincts. But, just like how he relied on his instincts when trying to figure out his quirk last night, he felt like letting them help him out once again.

He shrugged his shoulders. "It's like swimming or riding a bike. Combat is second nature to me."

"Second nature?! You're just a damn extra who doesn't even belong here. I don't need to waste my time on you!"

He strided over to rejoin his class, but quickly realized...

"While you two brats were arguing, the timer already went off. You have to wait another eight minutes, Bakugou," Aizawa said.

"SHUT UP! I KNOW!" he screamed, hot fire blazing behind his red irises. He swiftly pointed his finger towards Killua. "Oi, cat face! This is your fault!"

Cat face?

Relaxing his hands behind his head, he said, "I don't need to watch the timer. I'm not even participating, stupid."

Bakugou, even if he was completely livid, took the time to assess Killua, eyes slowly (but furiously) scanning him over. "You really think you're some strong ass, motherfucking combat expert? Fucking prove it."

Was...

"Zoldyck is still considered a threat," Aizawa interrupted. "We don't kno—"

"I DON'T CARE! He shows up unconscious out of nowhere, and now he has the balls to think he can teach us? Bullshit!"

Was he finally going to fight someone?

A diabolical smirk grew on his face, perfectly matching the nickname he was given by the hothead. "Okay, I will."

The pair trudged through the midst of the sparring students. Everyone slowly took notice of what was going on between the two, and few of them even paused mid-battle to watch.

Suddenly, he felt a hand grab his arm. Turning around, he found Midoriya and his giant, worried green eyes.

"Zoldyck! Are you fighting K-Kacchan?!"

This stuttering mess of a guy called that angry bastard Kacchan?

"Yeah," he answered, trying to hide his laughter.

"I-I... Just... Please be careful."

"Don't worry, it'll be over quick," he grinned.

Finally, Killua and Bakugou stopped and stood about 15 feet apart. Most of the students were watching, starting to surround them. Looking around some more, he couldn't spot Aizawa. Oh well, he thought, at least he won't interfere.

He kept thinking about Midoriya's genuine worry. From what he saw as he was observing the matches before, Bakugou was an aggressive fighter. He held great intellect and the raw power to go along with it, but the angrier he got, the more details he'd overlook, leading to sloppy and predictable moves.

"He looks so fragile!" a voice from the crowd said.

"Too bad Bakugou can't use his quirk."

"Too bad?! He'd kill the little guy!"

"Hey, how old even is he?"

"Fais gaffe!"

Bakugou cracked his knuckles. "You got eight minutes, cat face."

"I only need a second."

He didn't need to exploit Bakugou's weakness. He just thought it was funny to make him mad.

"You bastard..." His fists clenched as he took an offensive fighting stance. In contrast, Killua stood still, one hand in his pocket, further angering his opponent. "Are you trying to go easy on me?" he snarled.

"If I went all out..."

Killua smirked.

"I'd kill you."

At that point, he looked like a wild animal; clenched teeth, darkened eyes, and a deafening roar as his feet blasted off the ground, leaving behind a trail of dust.

"DIEEE...!"

A quarter of a second.

Bakugou was charging at him in what seemed like slow motion. His arms were straight behind him, leaving him open basically everywhere. Not like he could move to block quick enough, anyway.

Half a second.

Killua dashed forward, raising his arm up about head level.

Three quarters of a second.

They were now side by side, catching each others' gaze. Killua saw something change in Bakugou's eyes.

One second.

Killua's arm crashed down, hand connecting to Bakugou's neck in a swift chop.

Bakugou collapsed on the ground, and Killua, for the first time, rendered every student speechless.

Shoving his hand back in his pocket, he clicked his tongue and quietly said, "I told you."

He raised his head to look around at the surrounding students, who were silently staring at either him or the student unconscious on the ground. Had he made a bad impression...?

No, it didn't matter what these kids thought about him. Bakugou was right, he wasn't even a student, so he—

"Dude..." someone said, breaking the heavy silence.

Killua looked to the source of the voice, as did everyone else.

"That... was so... MANLY!"

"You beat BAKUGOU?!"

"He actually took one second..."

"Hold on," the student with the high ponytail said as she walked right up to him. "This was supposed to be a quirkless battle. No one can move that fast without a quirk."

"You're right, Yaoyorozu," Aizawa said from behind the crowd, students making way for the teacher's sudden appearance. He looked different from before... The yellow sleeping bag was nowhere to be seen, and now his hair was standing straight up. "These are quirkless battles. And because Zoldyck still hasn't remembered what his quirk is, I used mine on him. It was so, if he holds a dangerous quirk, no one would get seriously hurt if it suddenly appeared during the fight.

"But because I used it and he still managed to... knock Bakugou out, we know he wasn't using a quirk."

A chorus of sounds of amazement took over the crowd, some questioning how he could possibly be that fast, others questioning the possibilities of what his quirk could be, and the rest still wondering how someone who looked like a "cute little doll" was able to so easily defeat someone as strong and scary as Bakugou.

"Zoldyck," Aizawa continued, holding Killua under his scrutinizing glare, "do you know what this means?"

"Uh..." he trailed. "I can use your phone now?"

"No," he said, sighing. "You're much more of a threat than we thought."

Killua frowned. "I beat a guy in a battle he started."

"Class is over," Aizawa called out to the rest of the students, ignoring Killua. "Go get changed for your next class."

The class dispersed, heading into the locker rooms.

He turned his attention back to the sulking Killua, a look of uncertainty plastered on his face as he said, "We need to see Nezu again."


"So where's the other one?" Shigaraki asked Kurogiri once Gon was out of hearing range.

"I don't know," he answered. "It would make things easier for us if we knew who they even are, but we don't. We just have to make sure Freecss doesn't run into them."

"Ah, that sucks." A smile grew on his face. "I'm excited, though."

"Hm?"

He snapped his head towards the bartender, cracked grin still present on his face. "To use Gon. That little brat... he won against me by pushing me. And he says he doesn't even have a quirk."

"All For One did say he was supposed to be incredibly strong." Kurogiri sighed. "And with that stunt you pulled yesterday, our need for a healer increases even more."

The younger man laughed and stood up from the bar stool, back facing the bartender as he walked to the middle of the room. Twirling around to face him once again, he said, "You know, I just got a fun idea."

"And? What is it?"

A fiendish look glazed over his eyes. "How do you think he'll fare against a Nomu?"


A/N: wow, thank you for all the positive feedback! i really wasn't expecting to get so much for this story, so i'm happy people are excited to see where this goes! i absolutely love reading what all of you have to say, and i just want to say thank you so much to every single person who's reviewed (despite being a writer, my words are limited when it comes to thanking people, so i've decided this is better than replying the exact same thing to every comment, lol.) stay tuned for the next chapter! (and maybe wish gon a little luck, too.)