Summary: After generations of passing from one user to the next, OFA had evolved into something altogether more than the sum of its parts. So when its newest wielder is found wanting, it would of course provide this new host an appropriate vessel. If that meant turning the timid, mild-mannered teen into a 6'7 orc, then so be it.

AN: A word of forewarning. I've taken liberties with some of the characters in this story and their quirks. One such example that you'll see in this chapter is Katsumi.

twitter azreto / status / 1311286093086486529 The piece of art that inspired this story and how I envision Orc Izuku.

Chapter One: Izuku the Orc

From his precarious perch overlooking the white sands of Dagobah beach, Izuku watched as the waning sun completed its trek across the heavens, igniting the skies and the mirrored waves below in an inferno of somber hues.

"Magnificent, isn't it?"

Izuku hummed in agreement as the frail figure of his mentor joined him on the precipice, dangling his comically large feet over the ledge of the bluff.

"May I?" Toshinori held his hand out, nodding toward his pupil's ever-present notebook. Absently, Izuku nodded his consent, handing off the sketchpad in which he had bared his heart and soul.

"No matter how many times I see them, your drawings never cease to impress. Had you not set your sights on becoming a hero, a career as an artist would have been well within your reach."

Warmth stained Izuku's cheeks as his gaze dropped bashfully to his lap. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched on in mounting anxiety as his hero paused, taking in the candid portrait he had drawn earlier that morning during homeroom.

"I recognize her. She's the young lady from the day we first met. Your girlfriend, perhaps?"

With a bark of self-deprecating laughter, he shook his head, pointedly not meeting the older man's gaze. "No, nothing like that."

"Ah," Toshinori gave a knowing nod, closing the book and returning it to him. "To be young again."

Noting his charge's discomfort with the direction the conversation had taken, All Might took pity on him, changing the subject.

"Feel anything yet?"

Izuku's shoulders tugged upward of their own accord. "My stomach is a bit off, but that might be because I've not eaten in a while. Nothing but your hair, that is," he added, managing a bemused smirk.

"You'd best head home and get some rest," All Might ordered. "Tomorrow we begin your training in earnest."

Nodding, Izuku rose to his feet and hesitated. "About the beach—"

Toshinori stemmed his words with a wave of his hand. "We still have a week before our agreed-upon deadline. Plenty of time for you to finish clearing it. But if it makes you feel better, think about it like this. It would be foolish on both our parts if we waited until the last minute for you to take One For All. This way, you stand a chance of being prepared for the entrance exam."

Izuku hummed, conceding his wisdom, though it felt like he had failed the man who had taken him under his wing and shared with him his greatest secret. "Thank you, sensei. I promise to not let you down."

"I— I'm going to bed!"

"Izuku?" Inko Midoriya stared up at her son, baffled by his abrupt change in demeanor. "Aren't you still hungry?"

"N— no! I— um, I'm tired!"

Without pausing to explain himself further, leaving what would have been his fourth serving of the night untouched — he was ravenous in a way he had never been before — Izuku sprinted upstairs, slamming and locking his bedroom door behind him.

Smooth, string bean… No way running off like a lunatic… will arouse suspicion…

"W— who's there?!" he hissed into the inky darkness permeating his room, whipping about in search of the disembodied voice that had suddenly manifested.

That, kid, is one hell of a story… Unfortunately for us both… I don't have the time… to go into detail… Just be sure… to thank me… later… for the upgrade… As you are… now… one percent… would have… killed you…

"Upgrade—" he started, only to collapse to his knees as a deluge of excruciating pain, unlike anything he had ever experienced, consumed him from within. Liquid agony pumped through his veins in time with the frenzied patter of his heart, robbing him of coherent thought and the ability to cry out in shock.

As the turbulent bliss of unconsciousness overtook him, bringing him a modicum of respite, he barely possessed the presence of mind to comprehend what the fading voice said next.

You might… want… to go… nighty… night… for this… next… bit… squirt, the gruff voice continued from deep in the recesses of his mind. I expect… this… is going… to… suck…

Gradually, as if from the depths of a dense, all-encompassing fog, Izuku sluggishly woke from his fitful slumber, a piteous groan searing at his brittle throat.

With no small amount of effort, he rolled onto his front, his muscles on fire — taut to the point that the smallest of movements awakened in him a blistering fire. Yet never before had he felt more powerful — more alive.

Hands trembling, he made to brush his sweaty tresses from his face, only to freeze as he caught sight of the appendage and its impossible girth and distinctive, discolored hue.

Forgetting his aches and assorted pains, he leaped to his feet, sucking in a startled breath when the action was near-instantaneous. It hadn't been a conscious thought, more of an impulse that he had carried out on autopilot before he could decide whether he should or not.

Momentarily repressing his shock, he stumbled over to the lone mirror in his room, stuttering to a halt as he caught sight of his reflection and the wide berth of changes that had overtaken him in the dead of night.

The man in the mirror was undoubtedly him, yet Izuku struggled to recognize himself.

A mountain of rippling, densely packed musculature stared back at him, mirroring his bewilderment; a sight that might have otherwise been comical upon the features of the beastly man were it not for the panic he was experiencing.

His skin was the color of freshly mown grass after a spring rain, his freckles a hue that fell somewhere between the viridian of his hair and the bottle-green of his eyes — they, at least, hadn't been altered by the drastic mutation to his physiology. Most peculiar, however, was the twin pair of ivory tusks jutting from his bottom lip.

It was him, just… different. Larger than life. Stronger. More imposing. But if he squinted just right, he could still make himself out in the plains of his new face. He was still there; it was there, in the shape of his eyes, the way his dark shag fell into his face, and the smattering of freckles peppered across his visage — though he rather doubted anyone who hadn't spent a considerable amount of time associating with him would be able to discern who he was.

"One For All," he mused aloud, flinching at the deep baritone that, had the situation been different, would have been appealing in a gravelly, manly sort of way, but was instead as perturbing as it was a stark contrast to what he was accustomed to producing when he spoke. It was startling similar in lilt to that which he had heard the night before…

He stiffened as he recalled the events of the previous evening.

The mysterious voice and its outlandish claim that it was imparting him with, as it had called it, an "upgrade" before he lost consciousness. Though he had no way of confirming as much, the likelihood that all this was in some way connected to One For all was too glaring of a possibility to be ignored.

He needed to speak with All Might.

Wincing as his now too-small clothing further tore under the strain of his hulking mass, he fumbled for his phone, a process that took far longer than it should have.

"Shi— crap," he hissed when, upon finally retrieving the smart device, it shattered beyond repair when he made to unlock it with a swipe of his bratwurst-sized finger.

"Izuku?" came his mother's voice from the opposite side of his bedroom door, startling him.

"M— mom?!" he squeaked, a palpable dread welling heavily in his gut. He had forgotten that he would need to somehow explain his sudden change in appearance, not only to his mother but to everyone he knew.

Taking his words as an invitation, Inko brushed into his room without preamble. Predictably, she came up short as she laid eyes upon him, her smile faltering as she attempted to make sense of what it was she was seeing.

"Uh, I can explain?"

Yet he was saved the trouble, if only for the time being, as his kind-to-a-fault mother fainted on the spot.

"Yeah," he sighed to himself, hurrying forward to assure himself that she was alright. "I know the feeling."

Izuku squirmed under the scrutiny of his mentor, having finally calmed the man down enough to confirm he was who he claimed to be, explaining the situation and bizzare series of events to him to the best of his ability.

"So this voice you heard," Toshinori mused more to himself than Izuku, who bobbed his head nonetheless. "It claimed One For All was too powerful for your body to contain and that they were going to… 'upgrade' you?"

"Y— yeah," Izuku confirmed for the umpteenth time since they had met up. "I— when I first heard it, I thought I was going insane. But when I woke up this morning, I was— well," he gestured animatedly to himself, waving a dinnerplate-sized hand about his person, trying, and failing, not to grimace at his state of dress.

After calming his mother down and reassuring her that he was, in fact, okay — a process that had involved an abundance of tears on her part — he had set about getting dressed, only to belatedly realize that he had outgrown his wardrobe. Thankfully, not all of his late father's clothes were in storage. Though they were a tight fit, to the point of looking ridiculous on him, he had found a pair of sweatpants and a cotton tee that he could make do with.

Unfortunately, on him, they looked as if they belonged to a particularly small child.

His cheeks stained with warmth as he recalled the wide spectrum of looks he had received on the way to their normal meet-up spot. Not that he could fault them for their curiosity. Even in a society of superpowers and mutations, it wasn't every day that one encountered an almost seven-foot orc.

"I didn't think it was possible…" All Might muttered to himself. "Nothing I've encountered would suggest… But there really is no other explanation…"

"Uh, sensei, not to be rude, but would you mind sharing whatever epiphany you've come to?" Izuku pipped up. "I'm close to spiraling here."

"Ah, of course," the blond apologized sheepishly. "You see, after the death of my mentor, I went about researching the past users of One For All. Nothing in-depth, mind you, as I was in the Americas at the time and was preoccupied with my work as a hero. Though my efforts were mostly in vain, I was able to scrounge up some information on a few of them; particularly the fifth user, a man by the man of Daigoro Banjo."

"From what I could find, he was one of the first to inherit it, whose quirk was uncommonly well suited toward the stockpiling aspect of One For All. Even before receiving it, his physical strength was near unparalleled for the time."

"And? What was his quirk?" Izuku prodded impatiently, flinching as he realized he had growled at All Might. "I— I'm sorry, sensei—"

"There's no need to apologize, young Midoriya. From what I know of his— your quirk, it's quite likely that you're experiencing an influx of testosterone. I imagine that your temperament will be affected a great deal as a result."

Connecting the dots, Izuku gasped. "Wait, you mean his quirk was—"

Toshinori nodded. "He called it Orc."

Wide-eyed, Izuku shook his head disbelievingly. "But… how is that possible?"

"I couldn't begin to guess," the older man begrudgingly confessed. "I never experienced anything like what you're going through. I can't say I ever heard any voices and as you can see, I didn't undergo any form of transformation. At least not until I was injured. Though…"

"Yeah?"

"Well, on a few occasions where I found myself in a spot of trouble, I did see… something. A collection of shadowy figures who lent me their strength in times of need. Though I can't be certain, perhaps it was another manifestation of One For All," Toshinori mused. "This is just speculation, of course. It could have been the stress of said situations, but now I'm not so sure."

Overwhelmed, Izuku sank to his knees, cradling his head in his hands. "W— what do I do?"

"There's not much that you can, I'm afraid," All Might sighed, placing a large, skeletal hand atop his head. "For now, you should make the most of the gift you've been granted. Your transformation will aid you greatly in harnessing One For All."

"Y— you think so?"

Toshinori nodded, pleased to once more possess the answers his protégé required. "From a physical standpoint, Banjo was hands-down the strongest to receive One For All, at least prior to inheriting its power. From what I gathered, the raw strength his quirk granted him made it difficult for all those who came after to properly control it. I myself struggled to harness One For All early on. Were it not for an old acquaintance who repeatedly put me right, I would have spent much of my first year as the eighth user recovering from fractures and torn ligaments. And I was in much better shape then than you are— were before."

"What can Orc do?" Izuku asked, unable to contain his curiosity where quirks were concerned.

"Banjo possessed enhanced strength, stamina, durability, and as far as I know, senses beyond what a normal human would possess. It was quite the versatile quirk."

Izuku bobbed his head as he gradually rose to his full, impressive height, a look of grim determination filtering into existence across his features. "Then there's nothing else for it. We should get started. If I want to get into U.A., I need to familiarize myself with my new body… Man, that's weird to say."

Toshinori chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. "That's the spirit, my boy. But first," he continued, pointedly eyeing his feet, "shouldn't you put on some shoes?"

Izuku flushed, ducking his head. "About that… I don't exactly have any that will fit at the moment."

"Then you should go buy some before we begin."

Izuku's blush intensified, mumbling something under his breath that All Might failed to decipher.

"Come again?"

"Money is… tight right now," Izuku muttered only slightly louder, shamefaced. "I ate a week's worth of groceries this morning alone, before forcing myself to stop, and was still hungry."

Toshinori hummed thoughtfully. "If I recall correctly, your mother is single, is she not?"

"A widower," he corrected somberly. "My father… He died when I was young."

Nodding, Toshinori beckoned Izuku to follow him. "Then as your sensei, it falls to me to provide for my young student."

"I— I can't ask you to—"

"You're not asking," All Might cut firmly, but not unkindly, over him. "I'm telling. You're my responsibility, young Midoriya. As your mentor, if I'm able to make things easier for you, and by extension your mother, then it's my duty to do so."

"But," Izuku began in a small voice, only to be left scrambling after the man, his posture and the set of his frail shoulders brooking no room for further discussion on the matter.

Staring after him, Izuku felt his already deep respect for him grow exponentially.

Having made a point of arriving well before the first bell, Izuku fidgeted in his seat, absently worrying the sleeve of his new uniform between his fingers as more and more of his classmates filtered in, each with varying takes on the same response to his appearance. They would first pause at the sight of him, understandably taken aback by his stature, their expressions ranging from confusion to shock, before taking their seats, not bothering to be discreet about leering at him, the new element.

Though he couldn't be certain, Izuku didn't think any of them recognized him. A fact he was grateful for. Otherwise, he was sure he would have been bombarded with questions that he was hoping to avoid for as long as possible.

His desire to avoid the subject of his appearance, and his identity, however, were dashed out of hand as a familiar horned blonde slinked casually into class a few minutes before the final bell.

It didn't matter how familiar he was with her appearance, the sight of her always inspired a nauseating sense of longing in the pit of his stomach.

She was the spitting image of her mother, only slighter in build and with a few distinct alterations that were all her father. Her hair was longer, a blonde mane as untamable as his own. From her brow, twin horns swept gracefully upward, the base of each no different in tone than her skin, but that gradually bled into crimson peaks. Then there was her tail; a powerful, wire-thin appendage that he knew her to be as devastating with as her quirk, Explosion, and twice as quick to strike with.

As he knew she would, Katsumi, despite sitting next to him, didn't deign to glance his way as she approached her desk. Yet it didn't take long for the observant lass to notice that the focus of the class as a whole resided with her neighbor.

Though he had been on the receiving end of it for the better half of a decade at this point, Izuku still flinched as the apathetic, cinnamon eyes of his former friend and longtime crush took him in.

For a prolonged moment, she continued to stare, a hint of recognition gradually eroding away at her confusion.

"Zu-zu?" she whispered disbelievingly, unconsciously using the nickname she hadn't uttered aloud since their falling out years prior.

Izuku pointedly ignored the way his heart stuttered in his chest in response, chuckling sheepishly as he palmed the back of his neck, unable to hold her gaze. "Yeah… it's me, Kaachan."

The blonde was on her feet in an instant, ignoring the whispers spreading through the room like a wildfire as she stumbled into the desk behind her, expression strained and unreadable. "You… How… What the fuck?!"

Had the situation been different, Izuku would have been tempted to laugh at her reaction, so out of character was the sight of the unflappable Katsumi at a loss for words. As it were, he was just pleased to have her speaking to him again. It had been so long since she had last addressed him that the sound of his name on the delicate cupid's bow of her lips that the nape of his neck puckered with goose flesh.

"My quirk finally manifested…"

"That's not possible," she denied in a ragged voice barely above a whisper, shaking her head back and forth, regarding him as if he were some kind of foreign entity she had never before encountered. "Mutation-types don't work like that," she rationalized breathlessly. Which wasn't exactly true, just rather uncommon. Especially for someone his age.

So he lied, sticking with the story he had concocted with All Might ahead of time.

"The quirk specialist thinks that since it was such a drastic overhaul, that my body required a longer-than-normal gestation period to—"

"Good morning, everyone," their homeroom teacher announced his arrival, swaggering into the room like a king presiding over his court. "Ah, Midoriya, I see the rumors were true. Congratulations are in order, I suppose. Better late than never," the reed-thin man, who Izuku had long since held no small amount of contempt for, said in a tone that bordered upon mockery.

Katsumi, who looked as if she were going to be sick, sent their sensei a poisonous glare; her hands, the same blood-red as her horns, twitched at her sides, tendrils of oily smoke furling from her smoldering palms, and her skin taking on a tinge of red that had nothing to do with embarrassment as she reigned in her hair-trigger temper.

Izuku recoiled at the sight, having only ever felt her wrath the one time. The day she had turned away from him and hadn't looked back.

Failing to notice the ire he had managed to garner, the man continued, unaware of how close he had come to experiencing her devastating quirk firsthand. "Now then, everyone to your seats."

"Kaachan, wait up!"

The blonde tensed, her tail whipping about in agitation, but heeded his call, not bothering to look at him as he sided up to her. Instead, she settled for glaring at the adjacent wall, as if pretending he wasn't there.

"What do you want, Deku?"

Izuku attempted to shrug off her use of his other nickname, knowing exactly why she had done so — covering for her earlier slip of the tongue — but failed spectacularly.

"I… just thought we could talk," he mumbled self-consciously, feeling much smaller than he was in actuality.

Katsumi scoffed, taking off once more at a clipped pace. "Don't think anything has changed just because you managed to pull a quirk out your ass," she snapped, though Izuku noted the absence of heat in her tone. Though he was a tad out of practice, she sounded tired and, if he was reading her correctly, a baffling combination of remorseful and self-loathing.

"But I can be a hero now," he countered passionately, recalling the fight that had fractured their relationship beyond repair.

'You'd be better off dead, Zu-zu, than falling into the hands of a villain!'

Five long years had passed since she hurled those words at him, distraught after finding him beaten to a pulp by some of the older kids, who took exception to the "quirkless wonder" claiming he would one day be a hero. Not a day had passed since that he hadn't replayed them in his head, time and again. His best and only friend had refused to acknowledge him since, so it was difficult not to.

For a fleeting instant that he couldn't discern as genuine or a trick of the light, her eyes flickered from their normal reddish hue to a stark crimson as she grabbed him by the front of his shirt. The claws of her hands dug into his chest, she momentarily faltered, as if only just beginning to realize how drastic the change had been.

"You're so stupid, Zu-zu," she said, tearing away from the brash persona she had carefully cultivated over the years by swatting down those who tried to be too friendly with her. "You've had your quirk less than what? A few days? The rest of us have had our quirks for years! No matter how strong you are now, it won't help! You'll get yourself killed!"

Izuku surprised them both when she attempted to shove him away, catching her deceptively dainty wrists in his oversized hands.

"Then help me," he whispered. "You're the strongest person I know, Kaachan. If anyone can prepare me to become a hero, it's you."

Struck speechless by his heartfelt words, Katsumi, the barest hint of a flush warming her moonbeam complexion, went through a myriad of conflicting, indiscernible emotions, her mouth working silently. Until finally it became too much for her. She had never been good at expressing emotion outside the anger that always simmered just beneath the surface.

"Let go of me, Deku," she growled, wrenching free of his hold and storming off.

Izuku watched her go, both sad and elated by the day's developments. Their relationship wasn't repaired, not even close. But it was a step in the right direction, and more than he had ever dared hope they would achieve.

His soaring mood took a hit, however, as he found himself confronted by a pair of Katsumi's more zealous admirers. The duo grinned darkly up at him as they circled, reminiscent of a pair of famished beasts that had hunted down a particularly elusive morsel.

"So the waste of space finally got himself a quirk," fanboy number one, a skinny teen with a quirk that allowed him to elongate his fingers, snickered.

"I bet he won't hit puberty until he's twenty," his friend, a shorter, rotund boy with bat-like wings, sneered. "How about it, Deku? Got any hair down there yet?"

The duo laughed uproariously at their joke. Feeling his temper rise, Izuku brushed past them, heeding All Might's warning to anticipate his mood swings and react accordingly. His progress was halted, however, when he felt the former's serpentine fingers grip his arm.

"Hey, Shrek, look at us when we're talking to you," the boy snarled. "Stay away from Katsumi, or else!"

Doing his utmost not to lose his tentative hold on his anger, Izuku stared stoically down at the smaller teen. A part of him he didn't recognize relished the change in perspective, yet it paled in comparison to what he had started calling his "inner orc" and its desire for retribution. "Why's that?"

"Don't play dumb," the boy spat, attempting to intimidate him by invading in his personal space, but failed given their startling differences in height. It was with a start that Izuku realized he no longer feared the two. In fact, at that moment, he wanted nothing more than his pound of flesh. To grant them a glimpse of the fear and pain they had caused him.

"You show up with an even uglier mug than normal, and Katsumi starts acting like a bitch in heat. I've put in too much time and effort trying to get that uptight whore to put out—" His rant was drowned out by a shrill cry of pain.

Moving with a speed that belied his size, Izuku snatched up his offending fingers, the dexterous appendages shattering in his vice-like grip. Far from content, he gave them a lingering squeeze, barely more than a minute flex of his hand, yet it left the other boy howling.

"Talk about her like that again, and I'll end you," he growled dangerously, deftly hefting the smaller boy off his feet by his broken fingers, bringing them face to face. "Understand?"

His long-time tormentor bobbed his head, withering in his grasp and trying to put as much distance between him and Izuku's tusked maw as their position would allow.

Izuku sneered at his sobbing bully, feeling nothing but disgust for him as he unceremoniously dropped him to the floor. Long-fingers crumpled into a whimpering ball, clutching his ruined hand to his chest.

"What about you? Feel up to trying me?" he asked the heavy-set teen, receiving a fearful shake of the head. "Good. Stay away from me and Katsumi. She doesn't like you any more than she does me."

With nothing left to say, Izuku took his leave, too keyed-up to realize he didn't feel guilty in the least for the part he had played in their confrontation.

"Um, Toshinori-sensei, I'm not sure if this is a good idea," Izuku worried.

All Might sighed, easing out of his fighting stance.

"And why is that, young Midoriya?"

"Well, you've exceeded your time limit for the day, and I might hurt you," he finished lamely.

The blond snorted dismissively. "Even without One For All at my disposal and your recent increase in physical capabilities, I very much doubt you'll be able to land a substantial blow on my person, let alone harm me. After all, you don't work as a hero as long as I have without learning there's more to a fight than one's quirk."

"You're certain?"

Chuckling, All Might nodded as he returned to his former position, hands raised as if he were about to throw on a pair of boxing gloves and step into the ring. "I have more than enough in the tank to handle a young upstart like yourself."

Snickering along with his mentor, Izuku attempted to replicate his stance, doing a rather poor imitation. For a second time, deflated-Might relaxed his position, eyeing him speculatively.

"Though I feel I already know the answer, I still have to ask. Is there any reason in particular that you mirrored my stance?"

Izuku blinked owlishly, clearly flummoxed. "Uh, because it's the one I've seen… you use the most," he confessed, grimacing at his reasoning. "That's not a good thing, is it?"

"I wouldn't say it's wrong, per se, but what works for me might not necessarily be what's best suited for you."

"Sorry."

Toshinori waved his apology off with a wry grin. "Again, it's not a bad thing. I'm keenly aware of your lack of training in such matters, so of course, you would copy a style you're most familiar with. But it's important that you not fall into any bad habits, such as emulating my preferred style of combat too closely. With what time we have left before the exam, I'll begin training you in various disciplines."

Izuku perked up at the idea of learning a proper fighting style, but frowned as he asked, "What about harnessing One For All?"

"Thanks to your transformation, learning to wield it isn't as pressing of a concern as previously. With your strength as it is now, you'll be more than prepared for anything U.A. might throw at you. No, I believe a more prudent use of time would be to assure you have a sturdy foundation to build upon. Teaching you to handle yourself in a fight is an excellent way to go about this."

"Now," he continued. "Let us start, shall we?"

Izuku nodded dutifully, taking on the same stance as previously, though couldn't escape the nagging feeling that it was all wrong for him now that All Might had brought to his attention that his trademark style of straight-up brawling might not be the best fit for him.

A sentiment that was reinforced when, at the prompting of the man, he charged.

Moving with such swiftness was a new experience for him, one he doubted he would ever tire of. It was as if he had gone through life up to that point buried up to the waist in quicksand, only to suddenly be deposited on dry land. Despite his substantial increase in mass, it was his former state of being that had been cumbersome. Restrictive. For the first time in his life, he was free of the shackles fate had imposed him with.

Yet for all his agility and strength, it did him little good when his target always seemed to be one step ahead of him. All Might seemed to read his movements before he could commit to them, anticipating his actions and heading them off in one fashion or another.

Toshinori fluttered in and out of his wild swings and attempts to grab him, offering up a return volley that, while not the strongest in their delivery, especially when one factored in Izuku's durable 'hide', were pinpoint accurate. More than once, he intercepted the man's bony fists with his jaw and nose, gut, and ribs.

Capitalizing on a perceived opening, Izuku threw a swift jab, only for All Might to ensnare his arm, spinning into the blow and pivoting, sending the much heavier youth careening bodily over his shoulder.

Izuku landed with a heavy grunt. From the flat of his back, sprawled out in the sand, he growled up at the sickly but no less skilled pro.

He was experiencing a dizzying combination of indignation at being manhandled and excitement at the prospect of throwing himself at the immovable wall that was the Symbol of Peace. It was an odd feeling, his blood singing in his veins at the prospect of a hard-fought battle that he instinctively knew he had no chance of winning.

"I deserved that," he grinned.

All Might offered him a hand, hauling him to his feet with some effort. "I'm sure by the time we're done, you'll have learned an invaluable lesson."

"Which is?"

"The importance of not underestimating your opponent."

And as Izuku had come to expect, Toshinori was, of course, correct.

"Move your ass, Deku."

Izuku was stirred from his leering up at Japan's premier institute for heroes-in-training by the arrival of a familiar, temperamental blonde. Turning, he beamed at the girl, the timid burst of sunshine that was the meek pull of his lip a sharp contrast to his tusks. Katsumi scowled at him as she trudged past.

"Good luck, Kaachan," he called after her, a found chortle, like crushed boulders, rumbling in his chest when she visibly bristled at his use of the term of endearment. "Not that you need it."

"You're goddam right I don't, stupid Deku!"

The tension between them hadn't abated in the days since Katsumi had broken her silence. In fact, she had gone above and beyond to outright avoid him despite his attempts to once more corner the girl. The self-serving masochist that he was — at least where she was concerned — any interaction was better than nothing. Yet Izuku had noticed how her gaze would stray to him out of the corner of her eye when she thought he wasn't paying attention.

It was hard not when he was hyper-aware of everything she did.

This was nothing new on his part, his not so subtle obsession with her. He had spent years watching her longingly from afar. Her light was blinding, a shooting star, searing in its brilliance, that illuminated skies on a moonless night. What was new, however, was his reaction to her presence.

He had always found her attractive, not that he was by any means alone in this regard. Yet where he had been content with stealing glances previously, now he wanted nothing more than to burn himself upon her scorching flames.

Be it the way she would subconsciously fiddle with her hair or when he would catch a fleeting whiff of her scent in his overly sensitive nose, his traitorous body would respond eagerly to her presence given the slightest provocation.

Too busy staring after his crush and the distracting sway of her tail, Izuku reacted in reflex when he bumped into a much smaller body, catching and steadying his victim.

"Sorry," he apologized without thought. His next words, however, a self-deprecating comment about not watching where he was going, died on his lips as he took in the girl he had nearly bowled over.

"My fault," she denied brightly, offering him a grateful smile that faltered as she drank in the sight of him. "Oh. You're a big one!"

Izuku chuckled self-consciously, doing his level best not to flee from the attention of the pretty girl.

You never fail to impress, green bean. No problem facing that scary blonde, but a cute girly flashes you a smile, and you turn into a blushing mess.

Izuku stiffened at the reappearance of the voice. It was stronger now, more substantial in substance. The fleeting quality from before, as if he were communicating through static, was absent.

Misinterpreting his reaction, Ochako hurriedly bowed her head, her permanently flushed cheeks darkening. "Sorry, I tend to speak without thinking. I didn't mean to offend you."

Well, say something, nine! At least make an attempt at appearing to be a functioning individual! First impressions go a long way!

"Uh, don't worry about it," he fumbled over his words. "No offense was taken. I'm just… you know, nervous. The exam and all."

Brushing her cropped tresses behind her ear, she frowned up at him. "Wait, you're an examinee?"

Izuku nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"I was sure you were a third-year or a TA," she awed, regarding him pensively.

"I wish," he confessed.

"Well, good luck in there," she beamed, patting him reassuringly on the arm. "I'm sure you'll kill it!"

"Uh, you too," he called after her as she skipped along her way.

And here I thought you were ill-prepared to handle One For All. You've exceeded my expectations, former squirt. You're not a complete invalid, huh?

"Banjo-senpai?" he hissed under his breath, pulling out his new phone as he ascended the stairs of the testing hall, pressing it to his ear. The last thing he needed was for people to think — know — he was conversing with the voices in his head.

Live and in the flesh… sort of.

"How are you in my head?"

All the past users are here, nine. I'm just the only one with a direct line to your noggin. For the time being, that is.

"How?"

One For All, of course. And here I thought you were supposed to be smart.

"You know what I mean," he growled, wincing when he caused several of those around him to flinch.

Yeah, but it's more fun messing with you.

Though he couldn't see his predecessor, he was left with the distinct impression the man was grinning impishly.

One For All contains vestiges of all its previous wielders. Even Toshi is in here. Kind of. That's how I was able to share my quirk with you. As will the others in time.

Izuku froze in the middle of the hall, earning disgruntled glances and outright glares from passersby as they were forced to maneuver around him. "I'm going to have multiple quirks?"

Talk about winning the lottery, you lucky sod. But that will come later. Despite reaching singularity and being more powerful than ever, One For All will need time to make the appropriate adjustments. It wouldn't do anyone any good if you were to suddenly drop dead.

Shocked into a stupor, Izuku didn't respond, absently pocketing his phone and continuing to the assembly hall in a daze. Too stunned by the revelation that he would possess multiple quirks, and that he could have died, that he didn't notice the pointed stare Katsumi shot him as he filled his assigned seat next to her.

Sheesh, kid. Get a grip. You need to get your head in the game. Now isn't the time to fall apart.

Izuku nodded, retrieving the notebook that he used for sketching and one of his new pencils. It had become obvious rather quickly that his old ones were too small and fragile for him to use anymore. Luckily, in a world of quirks, there were plenty of options available to someone of his substantial size.

Without a thought to what he was doing, he began to sketch something at random. It wasn't until he felt his neighbor tense next to him, her tail flicking out to slap him petulantly against the shin, that he surfaced from the disorganized kaleidoscope that was his thoughts.

"Kaachan?"

The blonde pinned him in place with a sharp look, huffing and turning to face the front of the auditorium.

Score one for the green bean. You've got yourself a cute little tsundere. Well done, brat.

"What?" Izuku mumbled under his breath.

First off, just think what you have to say. We don't need your future peers thinking you're a nutter. Secondly, bold move there, making your girlfriend jealous.

'Jealous,' Izuku blanched. 'Kaachan? No way!'

Banjo's snort reverberated from the recesses of his mind. You must be blind as hell, squirt. She has it bad for you. But can you blame her? The ladies love the tusks. The muscles don't hurt, either.

'You're out of your mind,' Izuku rebuked his assessment. 'Kaachan could have any guy she wanted. And I can assure you, I'm nothing more than an annoyance to her.'

Then explain why she got all pissy when she caught you sketching another girl?

Frowning, Izuku glanced down at his notebook, eyes widening when he realized he had unconsciously been drawing the girl from before.

Baller move, squirt. You might not be as hopeless as I thought.

'Kaachan doesn't like me like that! Or at all! You don't push away those you care for!'

Kid, I've been dead for more than a century, but even I know that you can't take a tsundere's actions at face value. Factor in the whole "childhood friend" angle, and you're screwed.

'You're wrong,' Izuku countered bullishly, not daring to allow himself to entertain such thoughts. That was a slippery slope he had no intention of going down. He tortured himself enough with thoughts of her as it were

Oh, yeah? Then how about a little wager?

On guard, he silently responded, 'If it'll make you drop it, then I'm game. '

Izuku blushed as the man in his head/quirk instructed him on how to proceed. Smothering the reflex that threatened to build in his throat, he did as instructed, sketching out a portrait of the girl next to him. By now well-versed in her every perfect imperfection, he went to great lengths to put as much care and detail into the drawing as he could, pouring all his repressed feeling into the work.

When he felt Katsumi stiffen a second time, he glanced at her from his peripherals. He sucked in a sharp breath upon seeing the faintest trace of a flush staining her flawless alabaster skin as she stared at his greatest creation to date.

Told you, brat! If there's one thing 'ol Banjo knows better than kicking ass, it's the inner workings of a maiden's heart. Well, that and how best to get into their skirts.

Izuku's resulting blush was nuclear in the heat it radiated. In a near-catatonic state, he barely caught anything that their proctor — the Present Mic — had to say about the exam.

As Banjo's gruff laughter echoed about in his skull, Izuku wasn't sure if he wanted to strangle the man or pepper him with questions on how best to proceed on the slim chance that he was correct that Katsumi nursed more than an apathetic contempt for him.

Ever the coward, he chose instead to focus on the pro hero before him.

Why not go talk to the cutie? We both know you're dying too.

'Are women all you think about?'

Not exclusively, but a significant amount of time, yeah. You try being a disembodied stream of consciousness for a couple of hundred years — see if you don't start lamenting on all the best things life has to offer.

Izuku sighed, continuing with his stretches. He had already discarded his jacket, leaving him in a pair of sweats that, while tighter than what he was accustomed to, weren't constricting, and a compression top that was too snug for his liking.

Despite the wide variety of clothes available to those with quirks that made them larger than your average citizen, his options had been surprisingly limited. With All Might going out of his way to fund his upkeep, purchasing him an entire wardrobe, having enough groceries to feed a small army delivered to his home on a regular basis, and even giving him a stipend that Izuku had been expressly forbidden to use on anything but his wants, the newest wielder of One For All hadn't caused a fuss.

The only other option available to him would have been to have his clothes specially tailored to his size, a costly expense that he couldn't bring himself to make Toshinori shell out more cash for.

"Hiya!"

Distracted as he was, Izuku glanced up in surprise, finding himself in the presence of the very girl who Banjo had been encouraging him to approach.

"Uh, hey."

"We're in the same test group," she chirped brightly, her smile twisting his insides into funny knots.

"Yeah," he chuckled, straightening to his full height. "Lucky that."

"How so?" she asked, nose scrunching up cutely.

"W— we can watch each other's backs," he hastily supplied.

I bet you'll be watching her back, alright.

'Shut it!'

Once more, he was subjected to her blinding smile, momentarily losing higher brain function as he marveled at the existence of such a cute creature.

"Excuse me!" a stuffy, no-nonsense voice intruded upon their moment, eliciting a growl from Izuku that he only just managed to suppress. "I would thank you not to distract others while they are obviously preparing themselves for the challenge ahead!"

Ochako recoiled from the taller teen, wilting in on herself as she stumbled over an unneeded apology.

Izuku shuddered as a red haze descended over him.

Easy there, squirt. Best not to do something to get yourself kicked out before you even take the exam.

With a start, Izuku realized he had the other boy's arm in hand, squeezing hard enough that the bespectacled youth was grimacing in discomfort.

"Fuck off," he snarled, shoving him away.

The shorter boy, now clutching his bruised arm, looked as if he were about to go off on a tangent, but was silenced as the telltale screech of their proctor rent the air.

"GO!"

AN: Originally, I didn't intend for Banjo to make an appearance for some time, but after reading One for All and Eight for Nine by griffinguy24 on ao3, I couldn't resist. Though for those of you who have read it already, you'll know my take on Banjo is quite different from his. And that's not including the change to his quirk.

If anyone is interested, I'm looking for a beta for this work. Future updates will be much faster with one. Since English is my second language, and I'm self-taught, the process of getting chapters to the point where I'm comfortable posting them is drawn out.

And lastly, I've been toying with the idea of making some of the other girls Izuku will be partnered with into monster girls, just as I did with Katsumi. An example would be to make Setsuna a zombie girl. Feel free to tell me if this is a good or horrible idea. Please. I'm floundering on whether this is worth pursuing. Also, if you have other ideas for types of monster girls — including those that involve gender-bending (eyes Shoto and lamia Kirishima) — hit me up. I'm currently on chapter two, so have time to make any suggested changes if I like them.