Tenya Iida sat quietly, tensely on a train headed toward his brother. The news deeply upsetting the rigid boy. The day started off so differently, though not as jovial as he once imagined. The participants were excited, an air of healthy competitiveness filled the stadium. That didn't negate the single dark cloud, their fellow classmate, one unfairly maligned, was barred from taking part.
The decision drew shouts of protest from Midoriya's cohort but they were all for not. Midoriya himself simply accepted the ruling but all could see his natural brightness and enthusiasm had dimmed. Iida didn't think he knew anyone that loved heroism and heroes more than his green haired friend. To have that passion tarnished with lies, it shook something within the speedster but he resolved to make a showing, to win and denounce the falsehoods foisted upon his future comrade.
All that went out the window when he received the call from his parents. His brother, his hero and role model, was severely injured and potentially crippled by a villain. A villain that pretended to be something else, something more. One that sat in judgment of heroes, killing those that didn't fit his rigid standards, Stain. To even think that villain's name made Tenya's blood boil. He'd never hated anyone before but he had nothing but the deepest antipathy for the villain that dared strike his brother down and blamed him for it.
Stain didn't deserve to be arrested. He didn't deserve to sit in a cell, to have a chance at redemption or simply live the rest of his days as he slipped into old age. He needed to die. To end as swiftly as he, potentially, ended Tensei's career. The craving for revenge was as foreign as the hate that inspired it. They made his chest tight. His body wanted to move, to act, or explode in fury but it would be directionless. Only one person should be the target of his enmity.
But could he? Tensei was an experienced hero, Tenya just a student. While his family honor and love for his brother pulled him toward seeking Stain, a recent experience tempered him. It, coincidentally, came back to his friend. It had been a few weeks but Tenya remembered how Izuku ambushed him during the heroics exercise. A kick to the chest while he was surveying the perimeter sent Tenya spinning. Midoriya didn't give him a chance to recover as before he could make sense of anything Tenya was buried neck deep into the ground. The greenette looked apologetic but Tenya dismissed it as unnecessary.
Not his best moment but it did serve as a warning. A talented student he may be but a fellow student was able to dispatch him with minimal effort. If he sought this Stain he couldn't be blinded by his anger or he'd be defeated and Tenya knew Stain wouldn't be as merciful as Midoriya had been. One mistake could mean the end of his career and/or his life. But if he did nothing, how could he look Tensei in the eyes? How could he carry on his family's legacy? Tenya kept staring out the window hoping the answers would come so he could follow the right path.
"T-toga-san, that isn't n-necessary," Izuku stuttered, decidedly not prepared for the girl to have Katsuki at her mercy and certainly not on his behalf. Katsuki looked equally shocked and enraged at his current position.
"I'm sorry Midoriya-kun, you're the asset but I don't work for you and my directions were clear," she said as she pressed the curved blade to Katsuki's neck with a slight amount of pressure. Not enough to make him bleed but enough for everyone to understand any sudden movements would result in a slit throat. Seeing he wasn't going to be able to talk her down he called her employer.
"Hey, son!" a voice rang out after a few rings.
"Hi, Izu-kun," he heard his mom call out.
"Um, hi. Dad, how fast can you get here, we have a situation." In a mere blink his dad was standing beside him, surveying the area.
"Oh, so you've met Himiko-chan? Good, good."
"No, not good. Decidedly not good," Izuku pointed to his classmate with the knife to his throat.
"Hm," his dad hummed, "Himiko-chan, report," he requested.
"I was joining Gemstone for lunch-"
"Gemstone?" Izuku questioned.
"Yea, that's been your code name for your protection detail for years."
"Y-years? I've had guards… for years?"
"Son, if you want Himiko-chan to remove her blade from Katsuki's throat you might want to focus on why she placed it there in the first place."
"We'll talk about this later," Izuku huffed, feeling slightly put out. His dad protecting him from the shadows was one thing, having strangers do it was another. His dad nodded and then prompted Toga-san to continue.
"As I was saying, I joined Gemstone for lunch and then this one unleashed a flood of invective unprovoked. Not satisfied with his verbal abuse, he approached Gemstone without permission and demonstrated threatening body language. He presented himself as a threat so I neutralized him within the parameters provided to me."
"Excellent, Himiko-chan. You can let Katsuki up, I'm sure he'll focus more on the sports festival now." Toga-san did so without a moment's hesitation. Katsuki looked prepared to explode but a stern look from his dad cut his response off.
"Katsuki, I don't know who told you that you could become larger by tearing down the person I created but that ends now. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred Himiko would have slit your throat. Unless you're the luckiest person in the world I wouldn't roll the dice on her mercy again, you understand me?" Katsuki merely scowled and the air in the room became suffocating. "When I ask you a question you answer me. Do you understand me, Katsuki Bakugo?"
"Y-yes."
"Good lad, now run along. I think you're a favorite to win this so give it your all."
"If he wins it's only because Gemstone couldn't compete," Toga-san said as she returned to her seat and picked up her chopsticks. Izuku braced for the explosion (emotional or literal) but it never came. Katsuki had murder in his eyes but said nothing, leaving the cafeteria silently instead.
"Oh hey," his dad said with too much enthusiasm, "sushi? Look at you!"
"I eat other things besides katsudon, dad," Izuku defended while wondering why his dad had to be so embarrassing when virtually no one was around so he could prove it.
"I know you do, I just didn't know you'd do so willingly."
Izuku muttered something, his honest nature at war with the desire to deprive his father a win.
"What was that, son?"
"They didn't have any." Despite himself, he couldn't help matching his father's megawatt smile, both laughing at something that wasn't that funny.
Kirishima ignored the numbing of his hands as his fists clanged with his metal skinned counterpart. It was a less than ideal match-up, someone with a quirk so similar to his; one might even claim it superior. But that didn't matter to him. He wasn't doing this to show his quirk was superior. He wasn't doing it to even win the tournament. He had a stain on him. No one else could see it but he could feel it. It felt like being used as a pommel horse. It felt like watching Mina get kicked several meters away and Shoji getting taken down in a blink. It felt like getting buried neck deep.
It felt like helplessness.
But there was no resentment. He didn't have harsh words for Midoriya. While he'd been the source of Kirhishima's defeat, he wasn't the target of the boy's frustration. That was internalized. He hadn't been working hard enough. Getting into UA felt like an achievement, like the achievement. He'd let up, stopped pushing. He knew there were students that were ahead of him, he never felt like he couldn't compete with them at all.
That had been a mistake. All Might had been kind in his assessment. Aizawa-sensei had not. But he needed that bite of reality. He needed to see where he'd erred. He needed to be reminded, as Aizawa-sensei put it, if Midoriya had been a traitor all of 1A would have been dead.
The two students exchanged blows again, neither giving an inch. It was a stunning display of bullheadedness.
The numbness was increasing. A symptom of what he lacked. Strength. Resolve. That could only be forged through hardship.
"That all you got?" he asked Tetsutetsu. An uncharacteristic quip but he needed it to summon the motivation to dig deeper. There were levels beyond he even thought possible. He just needed to push himself. Never back down. He was a human shield, one that would never break. Never again.
The two continued one, seemingly throwing out all considerations of strategy and technique to whale on each other but that wasn't true. The terms of the battle simply had no use for cleverness. Tricks wouldn't answer the question. No, this was something else. And as Kirishima ate one to give two he saw something. It was just a glimmer but it was there.
Tetsutetsu was starting to falter. Maybe it was fatigue. It could have been pain. Ultimately, it didn't matter. He'd shown the smallest of openings, a fraction of a sign he was ready to quit and it rejuvenated the red head across from him. As if he were channeling All Might himself, the boy started hammering away at his opponent, Relentlessly, giving him no quarter. No breaks. He didn't know how long it took. A minute or an hour would have been believed but when Tetsu dropped his transformation, Midnight-sensei called an end to the match.
His lungs were on fire, he could barely see straight but it was all worth it when she raised his hand. Victory was nice but it wasn't about that, not really. He'd proven something to himself. Few things in the world felt better than that.
Chiyo was convinced the more regulated and standardized heroics got, the stupider hero students became. Or, maybe, they were simply too reliant on her and believed they could push harder and harder without consequence. Nothing came without consequences, not one darn thing. This should be one of the first lessons you teach adolescents, their biochemistry attempting to seduce them into believing they are invincible. They aren't. Not even All Might was.
If the professors guided them properly then maybe she wouldn't have two idiots more barbarous than heroic and in need of treatment. She had half a mind to deny them both and make the red haired one pull out of the rest of the tournament. She wouldn't, she'd never withhold necessary aid and it'd set a bad example for her part time student.
"Hey Teach, you see our epic struggle?" Tetsutetsu asked, a little loudly. Naruto paused talking through healing Kirishima to chuckle lightly.
"I did. Like two rams trying to establish dominance." The boy lit up.
"Exactly-"
"Just remember, most rams aren't expected to complete calculus homework. If you must, maybe choose a battle of wills that won't kill your brain cells." The boys, initially, grimaced at the reminder of math but brightened back up fast enough.
Chiyo used her quirk and the 1B-er was dozing before she could turn around. She idly listened back to Uzumaki's lecture on using what he called the Mystical Palm Technique. It felt a little grandiose but was effective.
She nearly kicked herself for not asking Uzumaki sooner if his son could learn to heal as he could. He'd been frank that while he couldn't do the radical and instantaneous healing, yet, there were other techniques his son could learn. When she learned the boy was banned from competing, she knew his budding skills could be of use. She didn't feel great about it, no one could miss how pained he looked at being sidelined but this was a golden opportunity.
Chiyo wouldn't be here forever. She felt her age more and more everyday and healing quirks were rare. She never entertained the idea Midoriya-kun would go exclusively into healing, a little boy enraptured by the legend of All Might and a young man the only son of the strongest creature on earth? He wouldn't be able to ignore the call of action. But a future top ten hero, of this she had no doubt, that could fight and heal? Break things and fix them? Maybe the ripple effects would be enough.
"What do you think Madame President?" The Sports Festival was a cornerstone of hero society, giving good PR and demonstrating the potential of those intending to join their ranks. It was also a subtle message that there were always more people in line, villains couldn't simply rest easy. Japan was diligent, it would be defended, the people made safe by those chosen few who could withstand the challenges of becoming heroes.
But that wasn't what her assistant meant. He wanted to know what she thought of the contestants and she'd rate them as fine. A lot of potential, some with a lot of power others a good bit of control but nothing that rated as prodigious or outside the understood boundaries. Of course, some subordinate had robbed her of the opportunity of seeing if the Ogre's son was showing signs of being comparable to his father.
The HPSC was not a clean organization. On some level, it wasn't even a moral one. Stating that Japanese society would be protected and exist with law & order meant that was true even if much of the population were bigots (and individuals with mutation quirks would resoundingly say they were) or just not very righteous. Shey didn't pass laws, didn't get to weigh in on the mores of the people she protected. She regulated heroes, kept them in line and made sure hero society would flourish.
The HPSC did not get involved in the squabbles of children. And yet one had done so, somehow hearing about a training exercise between Midoriya and another. Said subordinate then dug into their history and decided to ban Midoriya citing a pattern of bullying. It was a lie. Everyone who had even the smallest exposure to the facts would know it was a lie.
Beyond that, it was a lie that could have cost her dearly. Like her head. The night the Ogre was sitting in her home, in the dark, slitted red-eyes piercing her very soul she would have taken even money she wouldn't survive. And even with that threat, she didn't back down nor reverse the ruling. No one existed above society. No one. Uzumaki behaved as if he did but she wouldn't be a party to it. Those above her forced her to accept his deal but she'd do no more. She'd stall until they had a solution, a way to tame or remove him.
None of which she had at the time. None of which she had now. Instead of fully turning their cold war hot, he extracted concessions from her. One Himiko Toga cleared to be a bodyguard and additional student and the individual that overstepped was forced to resign. Those were easy. Too easy. You didn't come at the Prince and not expect retaliation from the King. She knew Uzumaki would levy his real toll and it was going to hurt.
The grand shame in all of this was that Uzumaki was a natural hero. He was doing some innovative things with his agency, community building initiatives and the like. They could have worked together, could have been advancing the profession to new arenas, new heights. But he refused to bow. He tried to stand above, announced he wouldn't follow a law he deemed stupid and, more importantly, no one could make him. It was the perfect cocktail to make her attempt to bring him into line.
The end result was instead of a powerful ally and a potential successor to All Might, she got an enemy. One that would end her as soon as speak to her. The situation was precarious. But, it always was. Before Uzumaki, there was Lady Nagant. And before her tenure there were dozens of other things. The position was thankless. And necessary. People resented the choices she made but they were required. She propped up order and would continue to do so, no matter what.
In the back of the stands with the rest of the eliminated students sat a quiet heiress. Momo could only pay half attention to the match between Todoroki and Tokoyami. She was caught in a loop, near obsessing over her loss to the latter boy. Even the cheer of the crowds were dulled by her inward focus. She knew her initial plan was good, not perfect, but good. Yet, when it faltered she couldn't craft an alternative and was soon overwhelmed by someone she, humbly, could have beat. If not for the engrained practice of controlling her emotions in front of people she'd likely break down.
How could she be a hero if she choked during a tournament with minimal stakes? Who would trust her? How could she trust herself? More pressingly, would her parents pull her after this showing? Could she even blame them?
"The paradox of choice," she heard a familiar, older voice cut through her shame spiral.
"H-hello, Uzumaki-sensei," she greeted before her brain fully processed what he said, "what's that?"
"In simple terms, it's an argument that when presented with many options it should lead to more happiness and fulfillment as everyone has a better chance to get exactly what they want. In truth, it often becomes overwhelming. How do you know what's the right choice? What if you're wrong? What if you want to change later? What if, what if, what if. Too many choices just leads to anxiety and misery, or so the argument goes.
Your problem, Momo-chan, wasn't that you couldn't come up with a second plan. You likely came up with multiple but couldn't land on the right one. It's understandable, your quirk is incredibly flexible but your experience is minimal which produces-"
"Indecisiveness," she finished. What he said made sense. While not gone entirely, she felt some of her shame and doubt leave her. If, partially, it was a problem of experience and not innate talent she could improve.
"Yup. I know I'm jumping ahead on this but I want you to intern at my agency."
"I'm flattered, Sensei, but why me?"
"Several reasons, Momo-chan. Of everyone who will submit requests I'm likely the best to help you with your quirk." Momo looked skeptical and he laughed. "I know, take me up on my offer and I'll show you. Secondly, I believe you are talented in ways you may not realize and I'd like to help develop that. But most importantly, I can help you see you were limiting yourself by asking the wrong question."
"What question was that?"
"Instead of asking how you could beat Fumikage, you were asking yourself how you could use your quirk to beat him. You kids are more than your quirks and I think it's really important for those with powerful or expansive quirks to learn that lesson."
Momo thought on his words and had to admit, he was right. Every potential solution to her fight did involve her quirk. She almost laughed at the paradox that created, limiting yourself by relying on a creation quirk. "Do I need to answer now, Sensei?"
"Of course not, see what other offers you get and talk it over with your parents. If you do choose to intern with me it won't be easy but it will be fun." He departed after that, leaving the down by not defeated, not any longer, girl to mull over his words.
"Ashido, what happened?" Shoto asked. He couldn't remove her from the capture tape but it didn't mean he couldn't get some information from her.
"Midori happened! He just showed up and took all three of us out. He then snatched the comm I got from Yaomomo and transformed into me."
"Transformed?" Shoto asked in confusion. Midoriya could do that?
"Yes! He looked and sounded exactly like me. He said he was headed toward their location and then poofed into smoke. You gotta hurry." He nodded and made his way there. Upon arrival he was greeted with a similar scene, half the class tied up, the other too beat up for it to matter. Asuyi was even stuck in a wall, Yaoyorozu was attempting to get her out.
Kyouka gave him a few scant details but the main point was Midoriya was close to winning, the last item needed in the hands of Uraraka, who had fled in the middle of his attack. Fortunately, Kyouka could hear enough to point him in the right direction. He sprinted, anticipation quickening his steps. He hadn't gotten to go against Midoriya, yet.
When he spotted him standing in an intersection of the faux city, Midoriya was collecting the last of his assigned items while Uraraka-san was propped against a building, hair matted and breathing heavily. He saw Midoriya look over to him and Todoroki understood the silent request, fighting with Uraraka there was too dangerous. Shoto saw Midoriya tense before he could see Bakugo on the opposite side to him, a gauntlet being aimed at Midoriya.
"Katsuki, wait!" Midoriya yelled, already turning toward the blond. Shoto didn't hear Bakugo's retort. He did hear the explosion and its aftermath as it struggled against the earth wall Midoriya created. To Shoto's surprise, the wall budged but didn't give. More explosions were heard, BAkugo using them to rise above the wall. He landed with a thud, ready to continue his assault.
"Katsuki, stop. I know you didn't see her but your blast could have hurt Uraraka! Calm down, it's just an exercise."
Shoto would swear he thought he saw the briefest moment of concern for his classmate but it was swiftly swallowed by something else.
"Like I give a damn! Extras should learn to stay out of my way!"
Midoriya closed his fists at his side and looked down. It was a small moment but enough to come to a conclusion, Shoto reasoned.
"I forfeit," Midoriya said calmly. That was not what he expected. Nor had Bakugo.
"Like hell you do, bastard! We're doing this."
"No, I forfeit. I refuse to do this with you. You have no respect for your peers, no concern for their welfare so I won't feed your ego. You wanted your win and now you have it."
Bakugo released his quirk into the air, an attempt at menacing Midoriya but it came off juvenile and weak. "So, that's it? You're afraid to face me with no one to hide behind."
"No, I just won't be involved when you eventually get one of us killed. Like rushing a villain with a quirk you didn't understand instead of letting the pros handle it."
"I had to act, I didn't have my daddy to rescue me."
"My 'daddy' likely saved all of us from that Nomu. You couldn't have done anything to it. We were lucky that day. Uraraka was lucky today. Luck runs out. When that day happens, when you do something you can't take back, don't ever say you weren't told, Katsuki. Scream and curse and insult everyone around you but don't ever say you didn't know."
His piece said, Midoriya turned his back and headed toward Uraraka. Shoto didn't know which angered Katsuki more, the words or Midoriya literally turning his back to him but it caused the volatile boy to snap. He attempted to lunge at Midoriya, stopped by Shoto's interference.
"You need to calm down, the exercise is over," Shoto attempted to explain but the wild look in Bakugo's eyes was far too reminiscent of someone else. He wouldn't hear reason, not anymore.
"Fuck you, Deku! You've always looked down on me, always thought you were better. You pretend to be this awkward geek but I know the truth! You want to step on me just as much as I want to step on you."
Those words hadn't hit their mark, Midoriya continued on. He never got the reaction he wanted.
"You ready?"
"It should be you down there," Shoto responded to his newly gained friend. The two were alone, Shoto waiting for to be called down for the finals.
"Maybe, maybe not. No changing that now and while not at my level, Katsuki doesn't exactly like you either so I wouldn't focus on irrelevant things."
"When right and wrong stop being relevant then what are we doing?"
"Everywhere I turn a philosopher!" Midoriya exclaimed. Shoto smiled.
"Your dad isn't wrong about the power of asking the right question."
"No, no he isn't. But Kierkergaard can't stop explosions."
"You're worried," Shoto responded. He didn't take offense, he understood why. Katsuki wasn't his favorite person but he didn't hate him. It meant there was a level of intensity he simply wasn't bringing to this. That's fine when there is a significant enough skills gap but of near equals, emotional content can be a deciding factor.
"I am."
"Don't be." He hadn't expected Midoriya to laugh at his reassurance.
"It doesn't work like that. Nothing has changed to make me stop."
"True, I'm going to be victorious."
"Todoroki Shoto please make way to the arena floor." The voice signaled an end to his break. He placed a hand on Midoriya's shoulder. He'd thought it would be comforting but hoped he wasn't being too forward.
"All will be fine."
"I know you can win, Todoroki. It's what the win will cost that concerns me."
Shoto nodded before departing. Midoriya believed he could win. He thought he could as well. But who did winning actually serve? He'd demonstrated precisions, control, and power. He'd kept a cool head, strategized where need be. There wasn't much a fight with Bakugo was going to reveal. Not enough to warrant injuries.
All for what? So Endeavor could take the credit? Crow about the talent of his creation?
Then there was Bakgo. Not hating the kid didn't mean he hadn't noticed how much of a jerk he'd been for weeks now. How he'd taken to attempting to bait Midoriya, as the latter had decided on a strict policy of non-engagement. A Shoto win might humble him but he would resolve to train harder. Bakugo could handle a loss.
He stood at the far end of the battleground. Midnight-sensei was explaining the rules, emphasizing she had a right to call the match at any time and her ruling was beyond contestation. Shoto figured everyone was expecting a fearsome battle. Shoto could hear Endeavor yelling from the stans, making a spectacle of himself. Midnight-sensei called a start to the fight and with zero hesitation, Shoto turned around and walked away.
Bakugo could handle a loss. Would absolutely preen in a hard fought win. But a hollow victory? Being seen as a technical winner and nothing else?
That was Shoto's victory and all he had to do was lose. He walked back to the tunnel, a shocked Midoriya standing there.
"Why?"
"Right and wrong are never irrelevant, Midoriya. Bakugo gets a win he can't stomach. My father gets to shut up and even UA gets a little dirt on their pristine image. Next year, I'll see you in the finals and I'll worry about winning then." Shoto watched Midoriya wipe a few unshed tears from his eyes.
"Fine and I'll even heal you after I beat you."
"And pay for soba."
"And pay for all the Katsudon you want."
"So-ba, Midoriya. So-ba."
"Noodles should be warm."
"... We don't have to wait until next year, we can go right now."
At their hearts, Philosophers are trolls. Welcome to the Troll Shoto era.
