When Aizawa asked for a volunteer to go to the teachers' lounge, Yaoyorozu's hand was the first up.
"Aizawa-sensei, please allow me to do that for you."
The class turned to face her, as they always did. Uraraka tilted her chair back to see around Satou's huge frame, and Aoyama had to crane at unnatural angles from the other side of the room; but when Yaoyorozu Momo spoke, you just… had to be there somehow.
She occupied the very last desk in Class 1-A's seating order, stationed in the back-left of the room. There were times when Deku was jealous. In middle school, the back row had been treasured territory for the shy, the sleepy, and the dead-bored kids who just wanted to pass notes and doodle until lunch.
Deku remembered coveting the same spot back in his old class, a world and a Quirk ago. You didn't have to be in anybody's field of vision, the teacher often forgot to call on you, and nobody kicked your chair from behind.
(One morning in seventh grade, he had been the first to class. Wistfully, he had dragged his fingers across the scratched-up top of desk #20, wishing it was his - until the girl who actually sat there showed up to call him a freak, and ask if he liked her or something.)
But that had been in other schools. Yaoyorozu took it seriously, always. She leapt to take charge of little tasks. She (and President Iida, of course, trumpeting the virtues of public service) cleaned up scraps of paper and dropped erasers. And she gently chided you after the bell if she noticed you goofing off.
It felt sort of like having a tall brunette lighthouse in class – one that gazed serenely over the heads of her fellow students, ensuring no harm would come to them, and offering everyone tea at the oddest times.
Aizawa yawned. "Fine. Go ahead. Come get last week's essays off my desk and put them in the faculty lounge until I have to look at them again." He stabbed a straw into his juice packet, clearly displeased at having to dip into his afternoon sugar supply.
From a few rows ahead, an audio jack waved in the air. "C'mon, sensei, quit picking on Yaomomo! That's the fourth time this week. Let somebody else earn brownie points."
Her teacher's eye twitched. "Is that an offer, Jirou?"
"Pft, no." She low-fived Kaminari across the aisle.
Class President Iida bolted upright with characteristic zeal. "Respectfully! Respectfully," he shot a look that could curdle milk at the two of them, "it is true that Yaoyorozu-kun has already missed a total of twenty-four minutes' lecture this week! We should establish a rotating system of task delegation to ensure that no one is deprived of valuable class time. I, of course, volunteer as well."
"Um," stammered Vice President Yaoyoruzu, a bit baffled by the commotion, "It's all right, everyone, I really don't mind…"
A shock of red hair tilted as Kirishima added his hand. "Ah, hell, sensei. I'll do it for ya."
"Oh yeah? Mr. Fifteenth-on-Midterms, thuddenly a model student?" piped Mineta smugly.
A small wave of muffled snickers was building up. Sero, who could smell comedy like dogs smell rain, threw both hands up and waved them like a drowning man – "Me me me! I wanna do it, sensei, pleeeze!"
The class exploded with giggles and soaring hands.
"Aizawa-sensei, pick me! I'm faster!"
"No way, me! You'll literally never notice I'm gone."
"Non non, mademoiselle, I am closer to the door!"
"Sensei, I gotta take a leak anyway-"
"Holy shit, I'll do it so I can be anywhere but here," Bakugou groaned.
The commotion was still going when the classroom door slid open with a BANG. The force set the frame rattling wildly.
Everyone shut up. Sero even opened his textbook.
Bigger than a mountain and just as white on top, Blood Hero Vlad King filled the doorway, scanning the room through his visor. The scarlet costume stretched over his tremendous chest made him even more imposing. Was he purposely sticking his bottom fangs out so far, or were they always like that?
He allowed several seconds of extremely pointed silence before turning to the front.
"Eraserhead, please get your classroom under control. We are trying to discuss injury reduction in peace."
Aizawa leveled a steely gaze at his coworker. "How about that. I was just about to teach mine about injury maximization. Go on back, Sekijiro, I'll handle it." Everybody gulped.
Vlad nodded and shut the door behind him.
"Now that that's done with… Yaoyorozu?"
She bowed in apology, her large ponytail falling over her head. "Um, I'm sorry to interrupt you once again, sir, but… the homework has disappeared."
Tokoyami stroked his chin. "Ah. It seems our ranks have shrunk as well."
Seat #18 was indeed empty. So was the top of Aizawa's lectern. There was only the sound of energetic footsteps in big red sneakers tapping down the hall, already distant, and soon gone.
Deku wobbled down the corridor. The huge stack of documents in his arms swayed and swayed, but he held firm. He had taken the job, after all… however discreetly.
It would have been fun to stay and see what happened, but that wouldn't get anybody anywhere. Better to just get it done. In fact, he had passed Vlad King in the hallway, muttering darkly about classroom control; a few seconds later a loud BANG echoed down the corridor, followed by an even louder silence. Evidence enough that Deku - who stiffened and picked up the pace - had made the right decision.
He probed his brain for memories of the school layout. The teacher's lounge should be… just down the hall, then a left? Yes.
He made a small game of taking longer and longer steps, testing the weight of the stack in his arms. His soles squeaked pleasantly against the floor.
Just a bit further…
With one last firm squeak of rubber-on-tile, Deku pivoted to round the corner, and ran smack into something. He yelped and tipped backwards. Sheaves of paper flew.
"Whoa, watch it, you- oh?"
Deku slapped somebody's essay out of his face and began brushing himself off, still flat on his keister. "I- oh geez, I'm so sorry! Are you OK?"
There were two boys in the hallway. One flicked his long reddish fringe out of his vision. His eyes were sharp amber slits. The other wore his dark hair back above thin glasses, and extended a slim hard hand for Deku to grab.
He took it appreciatively and the boy wrenched him up. Both were taller by at least a few inches.
"Keep a sharper eye out, kid," the dark-haired one said with a smile. "You could get hurt."
"Oh?" The redhead bent over a little to peer into Deku's face. "You a freshie? Think I recognize you. Getting in the news already?" His tie, slack and half-undone, dangled off his neck.
Deku scrambled for words. "Oh, uhm, no. I mean, yes, I'm a first-year. I'm Midoriya Izuku."
The two exchanged glances.
"Yeah, Midoriya! Yeah, I hear you're a pretty big deal in the hero course. Ain't that nice, Riki? We get to meet a celebrity."
"Autograph, Mr. Midoriya! Autograph!" Riki pitched his voice up and mimed a fan jumping up and down. Deku laughed awkwardly, hating the shrillness in his own voice.
The dark-haired young man slung an arm around his friend's shoulders. "I'm Jun and he's Riki. We're in the general course. Second-years."
"Oh - you're my upperclassmen, then! Nice to meet you!" Deku dipped a quick bow. It was a little exciting to cross paths with older kids from another course - especially when they knew your name. "Shouldn't we all be in class, though? I mean, I'm on my way to the teacher's office, but…"
"Sure thing," Riki said. "Hey, let me help you with that." He bent down and picked up two sheets of paper, offering them to Deku with a grin.
Deku looked down. They were still standing in the middle of a sea of dropped sheets.
"Uh… thank you…" He waited a couple of seconds, but neither Jun nor Riki seemed to be interested in helping further. They looked at him, as if expecting something.
Deku dropped to his knees and began sweeping up the pages himself. There was a familiar, chilly feeling in his gut.
"Anyway," Jun drawled, "we're still in class, you know. We just got so hungry, we couldn't focus. Thought we'd go down to the store and get a snack."
"Can't study on an empty stomach," Riki agreed. "Wanna come with?"
Deku organized and straightened the last of the stack. "No, thanks. I have to get back to class."
Riki shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Right. Big important hero things. Nothing us lackeys in general course would know about."
Deku was about to protest - there's nothing wrong with general course! Heroes need administrative support in almost every facet of - but something told him to keep his mouth shut and his legs moving. "Um, if you say so. Have… have a good one."
He had just hefted his burden back up when the slim hard hand clapped roughly on his shoulder. He watched in dismayed slow-motion as half the stack slid off the top and cascaded back down to splatter on the tile.
A burning pair of amber slits stared at him.
"Hey, hey, what's the big idea, freshman?" Riki shoved his hands in his own pockets and yanked, turning them inside out. "Where's my lunch money?"
"What- what do you mean, I don't have your-" Deku attempted to twist out of the older boy's grip. It didn't work; Jun just grabbed his blazer tighter. The seam wrenched up under his armpits, hitching his breath a little. Another snakelike hand seized the edges of Class 1-A's homework. Deku heard the sound of ripping paper.
"Stop it! Stop-"
The hand was gone before he knew what was going on. Deku found himself shoved carelessly forward. It took a couple of steps to catch himself, and to his horror, there was a dim heat beginning to pulse in his chest.
He took a long, slow breath. The reflex faded, and so did the eager sparks of One For All.
"Well, well. Would you look at that."
Deku forced himself to turn around, where he found Jun toying with a shining five-hundred-yen coin between his fingers. He was still smiling. The friendly look in his eyes, though, had darkened and died.
Riki cornered him from the other side. "Is this what they teach you kids in hero lessons these days? Picking pockets? That's some low shit, man."
The two sheets. Riki had slipped it in between when he handed them over. He had gotten played so easily. Stupid.
He tried to inch sideways, but Jun saw his gambit and moved to keep him in sight. "Whoa, you're not thinking about fighting in the halls, are you? This is a hero school, man. People get expelled for that."
"Look, it's really no big deal. We don't have to tell or anything."
"Yeah. Everybody makes mistakes. We just wanna see our precious junior on the straight and narrow, Midoriya. So…" - a smell of cigarette smoke overshadowed him - "just show us what's in your wallet and we might be able to call it even, okay?"
"Phone too," Jun commented, glancing at the door of the teacher's lounge.
"Yeah, let me see your phone for a sec. I'm just gonna get your contact info so we can keep an eye on you. What are friends for, right?"
"Midoriya-kun!"
At the sound of the commanding shout, Jun let go like he'd been burned. Riki wasn't as quick, but he did switch his grip into a comforting hand on the younger boy's shoulder.
It was Yaoyorozu in the hallway. Her posture was impeccable and ramrod-straight, arms folded, a look of righteous disapproval creasing her face into the mask of an avenging angel. Deku was suddenly very glad to see her.
"What is. The meaning. Of this." Her voice was silken steel.
Riki released Deku gently.
"Um, hi. Are you here to pick this- uh, our new friend Midoriya-kun up? We were just having a little guy talk."
Not being directly in the line of fire, Jun had collected himself more readily. "Yes, miss. We were just passing in the hall, and it seems my friend dropped his lunch money. This fine young man was just helping us look for it."
Yaoyorozu turned her laser gaze on Deku. In spite of himself, he squirmed a little. "Well, then. How nice. But," she powered forward, guiding Deku into the open hallway with one fair hand, "we really must be getting back to class. So I will solve your… guy talk… for you."
She reached into the pocket of her skirt. Riki raised an eyebrow appreciatively until Jun jammed an elbow into his ribs – and then they froze at what she withdrew.
If you listened, you could hear twin cash registers going off in their heads, down the hall, and in every business owned by the Yaoyorozu Conglomerate from here to Kyushu.
Crisply, she fanned out a wad of bills as thick as her wrist and stuck it in Riki's face. "There. That should be enough for a nice lunch with your friend. Perhaps even a dessert and a funny little toy. Take it and go, please."
Riki wasted no time waiting for anyone to change their minds. He snatched the money with superhuman speed and was already counting it by the time he rounded the corner. Jun took one last look - Deku wasn't sure what it was he saw in those eyes (suspicion? calculation?) - but he, too, was gone in a flash.
They were alone.
Yaoyorozu exhaled and knelt gracefully to the floor. Deku instantly reached out, thinking at first that she had fallen, until he noticed her picking up the scattered papers once more. He hopped to join her.
"Thank you, Yaoyorozu-san. It took me a while… I didn't understand what those guys were up to until too late."
She inspected her stack. "You missed half the lecture! We were worried, so I thought I'd check up on you. Remember, Midoriya-kun, there are always those who will attempt to take advantage of a good nature."
"Even at U.A., I guess," Deku murmured darkly. He had worked till he bled to get to this school… and goons like them had made the cut, too. The thought made his hands clench with dry frustration.
The teacher's lounge was empty. They laid the essays - some a little the worse for wear - on Aizawa's desk in two even towers, a lot more stable than the combined stack Deku had tried to manage. He should have asked for help in the first place.
At a gentle touch on his arm, Deku jumped an inch. Yaoyorozu smiled. "I didn't mean to startle you. You look… deep in thought."
"Ah, I- I guess I'm just still a bit bothered. Not only did they get away, they've got enough of your spending money for months. I'm sorry I made you give it up to help me. I'll pay you back as soon as I can…"
Her laugh was like bells, sudden and sparkling, and it upended him all over again. "Midoriya-kun! I'm surprised at you. Do you really think that was my plan? To reward a common shakedown?"
Yaoyorozu tilted her head to the side and glanced around, as if in thought. A patch of skin on her neck, no larger than a button, shimmered with Creation's light.
From it popped the crisp edges of a rolled-up 10,000-yen bill. She placed it in his palm.
"0.65 grams pressed mitsumata fibers, 0.15 grams simple ink, a touch of oil for that hand-spent feel, and 0.18 grams gallium to hold the whole thing together. Or not, in point of fact. I overheard your conversation and made it before rounding the corner."
The bill unrolled in his hands and almost immediately began to soften and break apart into a silvery-brown goop. He gasped with laughter. "Gallium… Gallium melts at room temperature, doesn't it? Yaoyorozu-san! That's brilliant!"
She blushed proudly. "It was a little naughty, but that currency won't last long in their hands or their pockets. I expect they'll be covered in inky paste within half an hour. It won't be hard to report them then."
He accepted the handkerchief she created and cleaned off his hand, looking at her with new appreciation. "Unbelievable. And you came up with it on the spot. I bet a lot of people wish they had your Quirk, but it's you that makes it work so well."
The brightest student in Class 1-A did something remarkable then.
She glanced over both shoulders, checking the hallway - and pulled a fancy little twirl, planting her hands on her waist in a power pose. "Well, yes! I- I am Creati! The Everything Hero!"
The halls were still. Outside, a thrush tactfully flew away.
The Everything Hero immediately ducked her face in her hands. "Please don't tell anyone I did that."
Deku grinned. "I don't know, I might. It was pretty cool."
They sauntered back to class together, feeling light and heroic, passing open classrooms and watching the sun begin its slow dip down into afternoon colors.
Aizawa-sensei was angry but not enough to do anything about it, and agreed to occasionally do the work of picking someone to run errands himself.
By evening, Mina was already texting around rumors of a couple of upperclassmen getting busted with suspensions and community service for something or other. Yaoyorozu simply smiled behind her teacup and observed the group chat.
And for the rest of the year - in the gossip and in-jokes and idle chatter that filled the spaces between missions - the few times when Deku happened to slip and copy Jirou or Kaminari, letting his lips pronounce the shockingly overfamiliar handle "Yaomomo" - she always met it with a prim smile and a kind word, just the same as always.
A/N: So, I've had this chapter written for like a year, but an early test-read convinced me it was garbage. On review? It's not so bad. Better than the last one, anyway.
From my heart, I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you for reading.
(I know this is a lot to ask for since it's been so long, but I'd really love to know what you thought. Drop me a review if you have anything to share, won't you, loves?)