A/N:

SO! It's been brought to my attention that I've managed to confuse several of you with some terminology that I use. Namely that I have Izuku refer to his mother as Kaachan.

Explanation time!
I have seen and used 'Kaachan' for several years now, way before BNHA even came out, as a sweet, super-personal/childish way for kids to address their moms. To me, "Kaachan" translates to Mama/Mum. "Kaasan", which is the technically correct way of personally referring to your mom, I think of AS Mom. "O-Kaasan/Okaasan" is the formal way YOU refer to YOUR Mom, which I translate as Mother.

So, since BNHA has come out and more fans are coming forward, I have been informed that 'Kaachan' is just another was of writing 'Kacchan' which is Bakugou's nickname, which I have honestly never seen in the BNHA fanfics I've read thus far and isn't used that way in the Manga or Anime but w/e it translates online.

So!

Let this be a PSA!

In MY fics, KAACHAN Means Mama, because I Headcanon Izu is totally a sweet babbu who still calls his Mom Mama when they're together. And KACCHAN is for most people's favorite Bomberanian!

(Be aware we do NOT Stan Bakugou in this House without some serious character-building/worldbuilding and some of my favorite fics ship him with Consequences so Fite Me)

Now that THAT'S out of the way (With Special Thanks to the AO3 Reviewer the_real_jared_kleinman who brought it to my attention)

Here you guys go, enjoy!

Morning Spaces

"P-placement tests?" Izuku asked, torn between giddy curiosity and anxious terror as he tentatively accepted the packet of papers Present Mic handed him. It was almost two centimeters thick, and just the front page was what looked like a summary of the entire test.

"A Hero needs more than a strong body or Quirk to do the job," Eraserhead stated seriously. "And Underground Heroes are expected to be able to think fast on their feet, faster even."

"Don't worry, Little Listener!" Present Mic chirped easily, grinning at him warmly. "These tests aren't like any of your school tests! It's got some sections on the usual subjects, of course, but most of it is just a way for us to gauge how you think about different problems, where we can focus your attention, things like that!"

"O-oh," Izuku murmured, eyes darting over the Summary Page, which was explaining what the Heroes said even further, letting him know that it was usually used for Student Transfers in UA between different tracks, and even then it was usually reserved for Second Year transfers. And it was written by the Nedzu! Nedzu, who's Quirk was just so amazing and he used it so well! Izuku always wondered if it affected how he processed things, like, did it change his thought process altogether? Did he see things in a different perspective that didn't belong to his animalistic mindset? Did he think in linear or non-linear patterns? Did—

"Problem Child," Eraserhead stated, voice raised only slightly, calling to him, and Izuku flinched, mouth clicking shut and unconsciously air-writing hand spasming as he instinctively cringed down into his chair, wincing.

"S-s-sorry," he managed to croak out, fingers tangling together tightly.

"Don't apologize, Midoriya-Kun," Present Mic stated simply, warmly. "You're pretty smart, y'know! And I'm sure that Nedzu would love to answer your questions some time, he's weird like that!" Izuku flushed, feeling tears fill his eyes as his shoulders hunched up around his ears, those same ears burning with embarrassment.

"We'll see about that later," Eraserhead stated calmly. "There's no time-limit on this. Besides the parts that are about school subjects, there are no right or wrong answers. But," he added, leaning forward, a flicker of red in his eyes as he stared at Izuku intently, "honesty is not only expected, but a requirement, Problem Child. If there are any question's you're not comfortable answering on paper, you will be expected to answer in person and explain why. Heroics is a career that has a difficult and sometimes dangerous impact on the human psyche. We usually have students fill these out in their Second Year, and usually if someone transfers in later in the year, because it is expected at that point for them to have had some interaction with Villains and criminals. This may change in the upcoming year if Nedzu can get the Board to agree."

"Or slip it past them," Present Mic agreed. Izuku found himself staring at the packet with anxiety, before taking a deep breath.

I can be a Hero, he thought to himself, fingers trembling slightly as he picked up the ballpoint pen that Eraserhead had slipped over. No. I will be a Hero! Taking another deep breath, Izuku clicked the pen determinedly, flipping the summary page over to expose the first page.

And fuck anyone who says I can't! He decided as he began to rapidly work, Present Mic's words from the other night giving him inspiration, fueling the hopeful fire the Voice Hero had lit in him that night on the Bridge.

With intense focus, Izuku lost himself in the questions and the flow of ink.

()()()()()()

Hizashi couldn't help his bright grin as he watched the green-haired boy buckle down and start flying through the packet. The same packet that he'd seen Third Years agonize over. Sure, he paused longer over certain parts, but otherwise he was zipping through the packet. And Shouta was totally invested now! His friend didn't just hand out nicknames after all! The last one he'd given was to… Amajiki-Kun, he believed. "Quiet One" wasn't much of a Nickname, but Hizashi knew better than most how bad his best friend was at naming things. And considering he'd seen Shouta hand that anxious boy more than one juice pouch over the last few years, and that he let the boy hide out next to him when he was overwhelmed, Hizashi knew that the boy didn't mind.

But those were thoughts for later, when he didn't have his Little Listener here! Hizashi beamed at Midoriya-San as she quietly set a fresh cup of tea at his elbow with a tremulous smile that was still sunshine-bright with gratitude…

It broke his heart and made his protective, Inner-Dragon/Mama-Bear instincts hiss, because here were two bright, genuinely kind and good people, one of them a child, who were so beaten down by the world around them but still so desperately wishing for Hope that the kind words of a complete stranger were seemingly enough to light the tired fires in their hearts. It made Hizashi was to M, but there were no targets to aim at, no Villains to fight, no assholes to punch in the face—Wait.

There was One (1) Asshole.

Shouta's elbow nudged him, no doubt seeing his slight straightening, the way his steadily tensing shoulders had stilled before relaxing into battle-readiness, and he flashed his friend a smile, bright and sharp and only recognized by those who knew him. It was the smile he reserved for particularly cruel Villains and criminals, for those who laid their hands on children or loved ones, for rapists and bigots and racists. Shouta stared, dark eyes sharpening, calculating, before humming and turning away to take a drink from his coffee, teeth briefly bared in a similar smile, and Hizashi let himself beam at his friend. Oh, Shouta may not know just yet who had gotten Hizashi's sometimes-dangerous attention, but, like always, he didn't doubt the brunette would be by his side every step of the way.

Just like he always was.

Hizashi, content to plan the best sort of vengeance for their Little Listener later, took a happy sip from his tea and went back to cheerfully watching Midoriya-Kun speed-run The Test. It was clear he was past the School Subject section, and was now in what was affectionately called the What Would You Do Section. Hizashi was legitimately interested in seeing what the green-haired boy would write. The answers he saw each year never ceased to either have him cackling or wondering what middle schools were teaching children.

Sipping his delicious tea and offering the anxiously puttering Midoriya Inko a wink and a thumbs up, Hizashi settled into his seat to happily wait it out.

()()()()()()()

Aizawa Shouta was not a morning person. He was an introvert, a realist with the occasionally twisted blip of optimism, and, obviously, had horrible, shitty, and altogether, the absolute worst taste in friends. What else would you call letting the bright, L O U D, definitely -a-Morning-Person known as Yamada Hizashi drag him out of his nice, warm, cat-covered bed to face the Principle as the ass-crack of morning for some brat who wasn't even a student, What the Fuck, Hizashi?

He hadn't even gotten to get good and irritated, however, because as soon as that office door had shut and the Rat-Bastard had asked Hizashi what the Surprise Visit was for (Good God, Hizashi, what the fuck?), the reason had been explained and Shouta.

Shouta remembered a chilly November evening when his best friend had skipped out on their study-session. Remembered storming angrily (worriedly) to his friend's house, the lights all out but one. Remembered letting himself in with his spare key, heading for Hizashi's room only to make a bee-line for the bathroom when it was the only light on in that unusually quiet house.

He remembered the stench of copper, the limp blond hair and bleak, dull eyes, and the all-consuming terror that had filled him in the desperate ten minute wait for the ambulance with, thank god, the EMT who had a Blood Replenishing Quirk.

So, was he happy that he'd been dragged before the hellspawn of a Principle on two-hours of sleep with no warning? Fuck no. But he wasn't about to let this kid Hizashi found spiral down again. And Nedzu was all too eager to hand over a Specially Made Hell-Test (God but Shouta remembered taking that monster and he would rather eat Hizashi's hair-gel than do it ever again), this one including a good thirty extra questions through-out that would help piece together the kids mental/emotional health. He was also more than happy to insist he get the chance to personally review the test.

"Discrimination against the Quirkless Population is at an all-time high in the last decade, you know," the Rat-Bastard informed them easily, needle-sharp teeth bared in something that only a complete idiot would call a smile. "The Unemployment Rates for Quirkless have skyrocketed right alongside their Suicide Rates, and they are woefully under-represented in all Hate-Crime related cases. The last case I remember reading about, actually, was a case of a young Quirkless woman accusing a Sidekick of sexual assault twelve years ago. The case was dropped when it was decided that the woman was obviously just attempting to gain attention, the Sidekick released without charges, and the young woman fined for Libel. She committed suicide six months later, after she had been fired from her job, evicted from her apartment, and assaulted a second time by an 'unknown person' who genetically matched her first assaulter. Not even three months after that, a woman with a Quirk that allowed her to change her hair-color came forward with the exact same accusations as the Quirkless woman, with even less evidence, and he was arrested and jailed, if I remember correctly." Nedzu took a sip of his tea, a soft clinking sound happening in the nausea-and-fury-filled silence of the office, as the porcelain cup clicked against his still-barred fangs.

"I do so loathe discrimination and prejudice," the once-experiment commented calmly. "Do let me know when young Midoriya-Kun is available to go over his results, would you? I would like to discuss them with him and his parents personally."

Shouta had always known his Former-Ethics-Teacher-Now-Boss was terrifying, but the smile he'd given the both of them as they'd left had seen the little hairs all over his body standing on end. And yet, he had no doubt in his mind that, even should this kid be absolute shit with this test, Nedzu would see him in UA and protected without hesitation.

(There was a reason Shouta and the other kids his age with 'Villain' or 'Useless' Quirks privately called him Dadzu outside of school. Never in the school, fuck that, even when he was just the terrifyingly perceptive/protective Ethics Teacher Nedzu knew too much about what went on in those halls.)

Grumbling tiredly to himself as Hizashi bounced out of their usual Café-stop halfway through their usual Morning Jog routine, Shouta resisted the urge to roll his aching eyes as the blond all but vibrated.

"You're gonna love this kid, Shou, I swear," his friend cajoled enthusiastically, grinning at him as he absently shoved some of the hair escaping his messy bun back out of his face. "I can tell, just from what I saw and heard and from the way his mom was, you're gonna like him. He's got so much potential, you'll wanna steal him from me, I know!" And Shouta just grumbled and rolled his eyes and followed along as his friend dragged him to the small apartment building in a relatively nice part of Musutafu.

Midoriya Inko was an anxious, gentle-hearted woman, who clearly loved her son more than herself and was equally terrified for him and desperate for him to realize his dream. Watching as she and Hizashi discussed therapy, training schedules, tutoring schedules, and even dietary plans, Shouta sipped his coffee. There was something depressingly grateful about the way Midoriya-San hung on Hizashi's word. The way she brightened when her stuttered or hesitantly voiced concerns were listened to, as if she was expecting them to be brushed off or that she'd get called an idiot for voicing them.

It made bile rise in the back of his throat, made his Quirk rise up behind his eyes in a burning protective fury as he realized that Midoriya Izuku wasn't the only one suffering at the hands of ignorant and arrogant assholes.

"I, I'm sorry," the woman said meekly, wringing her hands as she got up and moved to the coffee pot, nervous energy finally getting the best of her as she started the machine. "I, I don't really know what, um, what Hero Training requires. My, m-my husband, Hisashi, um, h-he was a Hero, a Support one," she informed them anxiously, hands cupping her elbows and she nervously shifted her weight from foot to foot. "He, when Izukkun was, was diagnosed, he knew that, that our baby wasn't going to, to flourish here. He, he took a brief trip to America six years ago, when, when Izuku was nine." She blinked rapidly, tears in her eyes before she took a deep breath, pulling some steel from somewhere to continue.

"There was a big Villain fight," she told them quietly. "It was, um, Gods, Izuku would know," she muttered, reaching up and pinching the bridge of her nose unhappily for a moment. "Something Chainsaw and All Might, I think," she shook her head, dropping her hand again with a small, tired grimace. "The fight was massive, it destroyed dozens of homes, hundreds of people were injured or buried under rubble. Hisashi called me, said that he would be home later than expected, that he had to stay and help." She sighed softly, looking off to the side and glancing at the steadily filling coffee pot.

"We got a call three days later," she told them quietly. "It was an accident. There was a building, half-collapsed, and a family trapped in the basement. Hisashi was the closest Hero, had medical training, and was lean enough to slip through the only secure opening. There were five people trapped there, a couple and their three children," she stated softly. "Hisashi got them all out, but, on the last trip with the mother, the building started to collapse. He managed to push her out the opening b-before it, it fell on him." She closed her breath, taking a slow, shaky breath.

"Hisashi was a Hero," she stated firmly. "And he believed Izuku could be one too. I, I'll admit that, that I haven't been as, as encouraging about it as I should have been," she told them hoarsely. "Izukkun is my baby, and he looks so much like my husband and, and I just—!"

"You want him to be happy, but you want him to be safe," Hizashi told her gently, kindly. "All good parents do, Midoriya-San," he assured her kindly; Shouta grimaced slightly as he chugged the last of his coffee (Ew, emotions).

"It's true," he stated seriously as he dropped his empty cup with its equally-empty friend. "But it's also illogical." Midoriya-San flinched slightly, big green eyes looking wounded as she stared at him. "Coddling children only cripples them in the real world. Children need socialization, experience, and encouragement in order to grow into reliably stable adults. They need to be able to know the consequences of their actions towards others and themselves." Shouta took a steady breath and laced his fingers together on the table, leaning forward to hold those large green eyes as he continued grimly. Midoriya-San had to understand this, for herself and her son's sake both.

"I have been a High School Teacher for eight years now, and I have the highest Expulsion Rate of any teacher that has ever worked at UA. I expel children every year, break their hearts and sometimes ruin their dreams, because those children do not have the potential to survive in the Heroics field. It isn't because their Quirk isn't right for it or anything. It is because they don't comprehend what Heroics is about. Children who have been coddled, been ruined by overly-complacent or overly-protective parents, are the ones that die in the first five years of their careers if they go into Heroics." Midoriya-San gasped softly, hands covering her mouth, and Aizawa grimaced slightly.

"I don't think lack of potential is what we'll have to worry about here," he told her quietly, seriously. "From what I've heard here, from what I've observed, and with the plans we are going to help your son through, I think that we can help Midoriya-Kun reach his dream, safely." Midoriya-San sniffled and offered him a small, trembling smile, and Shouta huffed, leaning back to slouch in his chair as Hizashi clapped a hand to his shoulder.

"I told you this grumpy-gus was a big ol' softie inside!" He cheerfully declared, making Midoriya-San giggle a little as she turned to the softly-beeping coffee machine.

"Perish," Shouta grunted waspishly, scowling tiredly at his brightly beaming friend, before being thoroughly distracted by clear beeping of the coffee machine.

"Oh!" Midoriya-San gasped, jumping a little at the sudden noise, before giggling nervously and digging out a coffee mug large enough to rival the three he had at home. "Here, Aizawa-San. Izukkun is usually the one to drink this, but it will probably be a little while before he wakes up, w-with the, um…" She struggled for a moment, no doubt searching for the right words.

"The complete shit-show of his interaction with irresponsible Heroes that were clearly suffering from inferiority-complexes and who deserve to have their licenses revoked indefinitely?" Shouta offered, making gimme-gestures at the large cup as the green-haired woman carried it over to him.

"The emotional roller-coaster of hell that he got a first-class, front-row, full-paid ride on that scammed him out of his free t-shirt but offered free trauma instead?" Hizashi chirped at his side, beaming cheekily as Midoriya-San's cheeks flushed, giggling a little and cupping her pink cheeks with her hands, previously uncertain, sad green eyes going bright as she offered them both a shy smile.

"E-exactly," She agreed. "And, and, oh, I know it, it is-isn't s-something to, to laugh about," she stuttered, biting her lip and wringing her hands, and Shouta took a deep gulp of his scalding coffee to hide his grimace because, ugh, emotions, but Hizashi, as always, was more than able to cover him on this subject.

"No one's saying you're mocking you son, or not taking this seriously, Midoriya-San," his friend stated earnestly, leaning forward with a gentle smile. "We're all taking this seriously. We all understand the consequences of not taking this seriously. But people react to stressful, upsetting things differently, and the only times reacting is not okay is if your reaction is to hurt yourself or others. Making jokes, laughing about something that you know, logically, you shouldn't laugh at? Those are coping mechanisms. And they are just as acceptable a crying or shouting or being scared. So, to protect ourselves from upsetting things, we react to them in specific ways. Coping mechanisms are good, as long as they're healthy, and as long as the thing you're coping for is something you acknowledge and talk about. Its only when you use coping mechanisms to outright bury and avoid a situation that they become dangerous, to your mental health as well as the mental health of those around you." Hizashi leaned forward, smile gentle, peering over his glasses to hold the woman's teary gaze.

"Your worries, concerns, reactions, and emotions are all completely valid. Your coping mechanisms, from what we've seen, are healthy and acceptable. And no one here is going to judge you on them or try and deny them." Shouta grimaced, staring straight ahead of himself, as Midoriya-San promptly burst into tears, and Hizashi hugged her, sympathetic tears of his own falling, if at a far more controlled rate.

Why am I here, he wondered blankly, refusing to look at the sniffling, weeping duo as he clutched his cup closer, peering darkly into the steaming depths. Can I drown myself in this before they notice? He wondered, staring down into his cup, before grimacing and gulping more down.

It's too damn early for this.

()()()()()()()

What is a Hero to you?

It was the last question in the packet. It rested above two full pages of blank, lined paper, obviously allowing for as much detail or emphasis as the writer wishes to give. Staring at it, Izuku hesitated. Before… just, Before? He would have waxed poetic about Heroes, about their actions and hearts and vibrancy. About what they represented, what they stood for. But, now…?

Izuku stared at the line for a moment, before glancing up in time to see Present Mic smile warmly, kindly at his Kaachan. To remember the Hero's words the other night, his arms, his offered hand.

Swallowing around the emotional lump in his throat, Izuku wrote the shortest essay-answer in the entire packet.

A Hero is someone who offers you their hand when you're a step away from falling. A Hero gives Hope.

(Closing his packet, handing it back to Present Mic, Izuku lifts his head and meets the Hero's eyes head on, meaningfully, and gets a proud smile in return. And, in his aching, bruised-and-cracked heart, Midoriya Izuku lets his frail, tiny shard of hope grow.)

A/N: Hey look at that, guys, I killed of Hisashi in this! Just so you know, this AU's Midoriya Hisashi is the same from my other BNHA fics. That's right, I killed the sweet, adorable cinnamon roll. And that also means that, yes, this Izuku is also related to the Todoroki's.

Anyways, tell me what you think!