A week after the trip to Musutafu, he and Shinsou met up early before school like usual to catch up and exchange coffee and sweets. Unlike usual, however, after Shinsou downed his expresso way too fast to be healthy, and Izuku finished his red bean bun, Shinsou put down the cup and sent a wide kick at his friend's face. No warning, no explanation.

Izuku stumbled back lamely, protecting his face with a sloppy block, one that covered his vision so much so he couldn't see Shinsou coming at him again with his anti-sensei knife drawn until he swung. Izuku's slowly building muscle memory kicked in for his scrambling brain, catching Shinsou's wrist and trying to twist the knife out of his hand. Shinsou must've anticipated that, twisting with Izuku just like Karasuma taught them yesterday in P.E. So Shinsou did start paying attention! That's such a relief, Izuku was so worried he would fall behind and-

Shinsou came out of the twist with an elbow to Izuku's chest. He grunted, the breath stolen from his lungs. Right, right, fight now, think later.

Izuku ducked under the follow-up punch and fell back on his palms, trying to swipe Shinsou's legs out from under him. It was a little messy, not at all like how Karasuma showed him, and his core wasn't quite strong enough yet, making him awkwardly land his other knee before he could replace his footing. It at least worked to throw Shinsou off balance, who definitely didn't pay attention during this P.E. lesson. Izuku's foot caught his ankle, pulling it out from under him and knocking him on his butt. Neither of them moved, both sprawled on the dirt and struggling to catch their breath.

"Um, Shinsou," Izuku said once his heart rate slowed to normal. "Why are you trying to kill me over coffee?"

The brainwasher sighed, slouching up into a seated position. "We made a bet, remember? Whoever is the better assassin at the end of the year — assuming the world doesn't end and all — gets to design the other's hero costume. There's no way I'm passing on this opportunity. Curious, how do you feel about hot pink?"

Izuku's tongue tripped in his mouth. "Wai-Wait, you're not- Shinsou, you can't- You're supposed to take it seriously!" His friend muffled his snickering with his hand, and Izuku sighed. "Well, it doesn't matter. I'm just gonna win then. Karasuma-sensei did say I'm one of the top students in hand-to-hand combat so far."

"Maybe for someone your size," Shinsou teased as they began to walk inside the building. "Besides, you underestimate my greatest power of all."

"What? You're quirk? That's cheating, Shinsou!"

"Nope." Shinsou's grin mimicked Korosensei's as he stood up, dusting off his uniform pants. He held out a hand to Izuku. "Sheer spite."

"...spite?" Izuku let himself get pulled up, rubbing his sore chest.

"It's my best asset. You'd be shocked to see how far it's gotten me. And there's no way I'm letting you touch my costume."

"Hey! I would be a great costume designer!"

"Keep telling yourself that, Jolly Green. I've seen your All-Might bunny sketches. I'll be doing you a favor."

-.-.-.-

They got a new transfer student.

She was a giant box robot.

Apparently, the world governments were more desperate than originally imagined. They hired an outside company from Norway to create an assassination robot, formally called Autonomously Thinking Fixed Artillery, that supposedly could calculate data from previous attempts and evolve attacks at rapid speeds to make them more accurate each attempt. They also have her an AI human persona to pass her off as a student, though Izuku found the emotionless and robotic and done more unnerving than anything else. She wasn't anything like the other students who all had other focuses and dreams, like passing exams and getting into good high schools. No, the AI assassin was only programmed for one thing.

Kill Korosensei.

There wasn't a moment of peace in 3-E since she arrived. Instruction was interrupted by near-constant gunfire as the robot recalculated and polished her attacks with endless artillery. Despite how annoying it was, the evidence suggested it worked a little bit at least. By the robot's second attack, she had actually succeeded in blowing off one of Korosensei's fingers. That didn't make it any less aggravating, however. At lunch, Shinsou looked ready to smash the robot into a million pieces (there's no time for naps in a warzone). He wasn't alone in that opinion.

"This is just bullshit. I can't believe we have to deal with her shooting up the classroom all day and then we have to clean up her mess," Terasaka mumbled. For the first time ever, Izuku agreed with him.

Shinsou leaned against his broom and sighed. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm not putting up with this for another day. This is a classroom, not a battlefield. At this rate, we'll all be forced to flunk out. We need to do something..."

"I like how you think, Turnip-Head," said Terasaka. Shinsou rolled his eyes and got back to sweeping.

Izuku hesitantly eyed the black machine, which turned silent with her target out of the room. They were right. They couldn't spend the rest of the year avoiding bullet showers. Even if her statistics were right, and there was a likelihood she could kill Korosensei by graduation, it came at the detriment of E-class; there would be no way they could pass entrance exams, and they wouldn't even get a share of the reward money if she assassinated their teacher.

There might be a 90% chance of her success if she kept this up, but at the same time, it meant a 100% chance of utter failure for everyone else.

-.-.-.-

The next morning, after his and Shinsou's morning training, Izuku walked in to find the assassination machine mummified in tape. Shinsou's conniving smirk and triumphant glee made him pause.

"Shinsou...did you do this?"

"No, Terasaka did. I just came up with the idea."

He sounded eerily similar to Karma. Normally, that would freak Izuku out (Karma was a lot of things, but a heroic personality wasn't one of them), but this time he couldn't bring himself to care. Shinsou acting a bit like an evil mastermind was a small price to pay for peace and quiet, right?

-.-.-.-

In the end, Korosensei saved the day, spending all of his money to update the robot's AI so she had a broader range of expression and a more approachable appearance, replacing her tiny screen with a full body screen. The robot was strangely poetic and very cutesy, which was just all sorts of weird, but a welcomed change. She no longer tried to shoot Korosensei twenty-four-seven with her newfound respect for their learning environment. In fact, she was actually pretty fun! Her data-gathering and analysis skills blew the Data Duo's minds, and they spent all lunch discussing heroes and their quirks. Even Shinsou, despite his previous bias against her, opened up with the robot after he realized Korosensei programmed her with Grandmaster chess skills; beforehand, the only person who challenged Shinsou in chess was Karma. The AI student wiped the floor with Shinsou within a minute of their first match, and he demanded rematches all day since.

"Hey, um. Autonomously Think Fixed Artillery?" Izuku asked after she checkmated Shinsou after a brutal 10-minute match — a new record for them. The lilac-haired AI girl smiled like the sun.

"Yes, Midoriya?"

"I was just wondering...do you want to pick out a new name? To go with your upgrade?" The AI blinked in an oddly human way, like she never considered something like that.

"I agree. Autonomously Thinking Fixed Artillery is a bit of a mouthful," Kataoka added.

Fuwa suddenly perked up. "Oh, I got it! Since jiritsu means autonomy in Japanese, why not called her Ritsu?"

"Ritsu?" the robot echoed. "I think I like it. Call me Ritsu, everyone!"

Izuku grinned and bumped shoulders with his sulking best friend as his classmates gushed over the robot girl. "She's fitting in pretty nicely now with this new programming, don't you think?"

"Maybe," Shinsou said. "She's still a robot though. I won't be surprised if her creator changed her back soon."

"Huh? Why would you say that?"

Shinsou hummed, picking up the smallest piece on his chessboard. "Well, when it comes down to it, she is still a pawn. She might have some free will now, but there's a reason her creators didn't give it to her before. To have absolute control is to rob someone of it entirely." He closed a fist around the pawn piece, his face darkened with the shadow from his hair. His purple eyes seemed to glow with dejection. "Trust me. I would know."

-.-.-.-

Like Shinsou predicted, the next day Ritsu was remodeled back to her old self.

Unlike Shinsou predicted, however, the robot defied all expectations and managed to retain the majority of her old programming, choosing to hide it from her creator. She decided she liked being friends with everyone better than being a constant assassin. She proved she kept her free will.

While everyone else congratulated her and cheered her on, Shinsou stared, face blank. Izuku wondered if he brainwashed himself. Then Shinsou reached into his pocket, pulled out the pawn piece, and placed it back on the chess board.

-.-.-.-

There was a strange man in the teachers' offices. Izuku approached their door during lunch, hoping to get extra chemistry help. The tense aura smacked him in the face, and he caught a glimpse of Karasuma and Ms. Jelavić confronting a man in a heavy trench coat. Izuku ducked out of the doorway, his back against the wall and ear turned to the conversation. Were they in danger? Should he find Korosensei? Would he even make it that far if the stranger noticed him?

"I think it's about time you run along home, Irina. Leave the rest of this mission to me," the man said, his accent strong and foreign. "You do great work in undercover missions, yes, but you are little use with your cover blown."

"Please, sir. Give me another chance. I can do it, I-" Ms. Jelavić plea cut off with a pained cry. Izuku heard the sounds of a struggle, Ms. Jelavić grunting and something smacking against a chair, making it tip with a crash.

"Don't take this personally, Irina. Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. It's time you accepted yours and went home."

As if he sensed the growing threat, a loud woosh of wind announced Korosensei's arrival. He was here to save the day, so Izuku should just leave the adults to their issues. So why wouldn't his body move? A familiar dizziness, the kind that took over everything as his brain tumbled like shoes in a washing machine, paralyzed his limbs. It transported him back to that doctor's office, the quirk doctor staring him down as he explained those stupid x-rays of his feet, the word quirkless echoing in his mind. He's never felt so incredibly weak. Then Bakugou, his childhood best friend — ex-friend — turned his back on Izuku because he was too weak, and all Bakugou cared about was strength. Only the strongest people were worthy of Bakugou's respect, and everyone else might as well be dirt on his shoe. Years of friendship stomped into mud, and Izuku was too weak, to pathetic to do anything about it but run away. Run away to a school designed to build up the strong on the backs of the weak, so of course they threw Izuku to the end class. 3-E was the mole rat, the stepping stones for Classes A through D's success. Their quirks were too weak; their grades were too low; their behavior was too improper.

In E-class, though, Izuku thought he had finally found an escape. A place where subtle strength trumped brute force; where everyone welcomed him with open arms, and even their immensely powerful teacher would slow down to loan them the strength to overcome any weakness. And sometime in that bliss, Izuku started to associate assassination with that as well. For assassins, it all came down to the killer and their target, and strength was determined by who made it out alive.

Distantly, he processed Korosensei arranging some competition for the stranger and Ms. Jelavić to prove who was the better assassin, followed by heavy footprints approaching the door. Far too heavy to be Karasuma or Ms. Jelavić. Izuku jumped off the wall, trying to make a break for the classroom, but that only threw him right at the stranger. The older, dark-haired man stepped around Izuku with cat-like grace that contradicted his heavy feet, preventing any collision. Izuku tried not to squeak, bowing his head.

"Ah, sorry!" He kept his head down, staring at the man's boots. They paused for a moment before the man scoffed and turned for the exit, muttering about "silly children" and their "snooping." He didn't lash out in anger, didn't scold Izuku or report him to his teachers. He walked away, and Izuku was safe to do the same.

So why was his body chasing the stranger down?!

"Sir! Wait!" he called out against all common sense. They were just outside the building entrance when the man came to a stop, glancing over his shoulder.

"What do you want, child?"

Izuku scrambled to compose himself. What did he want? Why did he follow the stranger? No doubt he was some kind of master assassin; what kind of idiot chases after a master assassin? Clearly, the jumbled mess of his brain wasn't recovered from the flashback. That must be why.

"I, um, I'm sorry to bother you sir, but...but you shouldn't say that about Ms. Jelavić. I don't think you know her that way anymore."

The man turned painfully slow on his heel, their height difference towering. "You think I don't know Irina. Do you even know who I am?" Izuku shook his head meekly and the older man clicked his tongue. "I am Lovro, one of the greatest assassins to ever live. I made Irina and countless other assassins the skilled professionals they are today. If anyone knows your English teacher, it is me."

"But, that's just it, Mr. Lovro," Izuku's stupid brain persisted. "You haven't seen her grow. E-class changed her, just like it's changed all of us. She's worthy of this mission, and she belongs in this classroom."

The man's scowl deepened, in the blink of an eye, Izuku couldn't breathe. It wasn't like some invisible was choking him or blocking his airway; he could feel his lungs palpitating, grasping for air it couldn't find. It was gone. The oxygen was gone.

This is what you get for being a fucking idiot who doesn't know when to shut the hell up, Deku, the little Bakugou in his head taunted. Terror flooded his soul, and he grabbed at his chest uselessly. He always assumed that if he died before graduation, it would be because Korosensei blew up the earth, not because he pissed off one of the deadliest men on the planet.

But then Lovro chortled and the air came rushing back. His lungs expanded greedily, sucking in as much as possible. Izuku collapsed to his knees, coughing and gasping.

"Your octopus friend said the same thing. Seems he's left quite the impression on you," the man said. "You are an odd child. Very brave and quick to defend. A rare combination these days, especially for a future assassin."

"Oh, no sir," Izuku replied once he caught his breath. "I don't want to be an assassin. I'm going to be a hero."

Lovro gave him a weird look. "Hero, huh? You have much to grow if you want to achieve that."

"Wha-What do you mean?"

"I do not mean to offend, child. You are still very small and, ah...underdeveloped. Your body shows promise for stealth and speed, but you lack the muscle and size to defeat larger opponents. Easily worked around, of course, if you know how to."

"Easily…wait!" Izuku (blaming his jumbled and now oxygen-deprived brain) jumped out to grab onto Lovro's coat. "Are you saying you can teach me how to fight?"

Lovro startled and shook Izuku off immediately. "What are you — of course I can! I am the greatest assassin trainer in the world. Now get off, child!"

Izuku stumbled back and slipped into a deep bow on his knees, nose kissing the floor. "Please, Mr. Lovro, sir! Please teach me how to fight. I want to learn to fight bigger opponents. Korosensei, he's fast but not strong, not that way. I have to learn so I can be a hero!"

A long, drawn-out silence passed before Lovro sighed. Izuku risked glancing up.

"Fine, child. I will teach you," he said, rubbing his temples. "But only if you take your training with total seriousness. I expected the highest level of discipline. You will receive the same training as all assassins I train. Being a boy earns you no exceptions."

"Yes- Yes, sir!" Izuku said, scrambling to stand up pin-straight.

"Good. We will begin training here on Saturday at dusk, no later," the man said, walking away again before pausing mid-step. "Oh, child. What is your name?"

"M-Midoriya Izuku, sir!"

Lovro smirked. "Well, I will accept nothing but the best from you, Midoriya Izuku."

-.-.-.-

In the end, Ms. Jelavić stayed as a teacher and Lovro departed, eyeing Izuku before making his exit. It seemed subtle enough, but when class ended, and Korosensei was bragging about some movie he was going to see in the States, Shinsou dragged him to the side, frown marring his usually blank features.

"Why was tall, mysterious, and foreign staring at you earlier?" he asked bluntly. Izuku tried to keep his face still, but it didn't little to stop the heat flooding his cheeks

"He-He was? Oh..." Izuku glanced up. Shinsou's face was back to being bored, but not his usual bored. Nagisa pointed it out first, but Shinsou's bored expression ranged on a spectrum. There was his resting face, a neutral bored, as well as bored bored, disinterested bored, masking-face bored, too-cool-to-be-excited bored, irritated bored, and will-punch-if-don't-shut-up bored. The bored on his face now rested somewhere between the latter two.

"Um, I did bump into him once not long after he showed up. Maybe it's just because he recognized me?" Izuku tried, telling a partial truth. Shinsou's bottom eyelid twitched — definitely irritated bored.

"Yeah. Sure."

Izuku scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. Change the subject, change the subject... "Hey, I've got an idea! Since Korosensei was talking about going to go see some movie, what if we went to the movies as well? It won't be the same one as him, obviously, since that one is getting released in the States only right now, but there's this new documentary on All-Might and how hero work has changed since he came along." Shinsou blinked slowly, which must mean he was approaching his most negative bored. Izuku quickly backtracked. "I mean, or we could go see something else if that's too nerdy. Or, like, we don't have to go at all if you're not feeling it. That's fine too. You might be busy, I should've asked if you were free first, it was rude of me to just assume otherwise—"

"Midoriya," Shinsou stated, slapping a hand over the boy's mouth. "Please be quiet."

No brain fog accompanied the order, but Izuku obeyed nonetheless.

"Now," the brainwasher continued. "I'd be happy to go to the movies with you. It sounds like a lot of fun, actually. It's funny — we focus so much on assassination and crazy schoolwork, I sometimes forget to be a normal junior high kid."

Izuku couldn't help but pump his fists. "Awesome! I checked earlier, and there's a showing not too long from now. If we hurry, we could still get some good seats."

Shinsou hummed. "Okay. Just so you know, I'm totally making you pay for all of this."

-.-.-.-

Later that week, they got word of yet another transfer student. After the disaster of pre-upgraded Ritsu, the whole class couldn't help but collectively groan. With final exams steadily approaching, the last thing they needed was for class time to be stopped yet again by a crazed child assassin. Izuku tried to remain optimistic. After all, what could be worse than an emotionless killing machine?

But then the eerie, white-cloaked man known as Shiro showed up and introduced his son, an emotionless killing machine human who claimed to be Korosensei's brother, and he realized, yes, things could very much be worse.

-.-.-.-

The new transfer student's name was Horibe Itona. He had starch-white hair and hypnotizing yellow eyes. He was uncomfortably blunt and serious, his bloodlust practically palpable. His strength was uncanny — he literally punch a giant hole in the wall to make his entrance, and for some reason, he was completely dry even though it was pouring rain outside.

Oh, and there were also tentacles growing out of the back of his head.

What the fudging fudge is fudging going on here?! The (heavily censored) little Bakugou in his head said.

The boy and his apparent father, Shiro, challenged Korosensei to a match after school, permitting him to stay in the borders of the classroom while the rest of the students watched from behind a circle of desks. They expected it to be a quick fight, where Korosensei would swiftly exert his dominance while grooming Horibe's eyebrows and teaching everyone some important life lesson.

They did not expect the strange boy to grow white tentacles out of his hair, and judging by Korosensei's beyond-furious expression, neither did he. That didn't matter anymore. When the teacher demanded Shiro explain, the white-cloaked man responded by shining a strange beam on the octopus, making him almost immobile. Horibe started attacking relentlessly, forcing Korosensei to pull out every possible defense to protect himself. It got so bad that Izuku actually feared the creepy father-son duo might succeed and that everything they'd worked for this year would be for nothing. He gnawed his bottom lip red. His assassin training was the only thing guaranteeing him a future as a quirkless hero, and while it may sound selfish to say (considering the survival of the world was at risk), it didn't seem right that someone outside of 3-E might kill Korosensei. He was their teacher, their target, and their responsibility.

But before the fight could go any further south, Korosensei whipped a barrage of anti-sensei knives out of nowhere, damaging Horibe's tentacles before wrapping the boy in his molten skin as protection and chucking him out the window, therefore out of bounds. Korosensei won — Shiro carried Horibe Itona away, declaring the boy would return at an unsaid date — and killing their teacher became 3-E's sole responsibility once again.

The way it should be.

-.-.-.-

Izuku spent most of his Saturday afternoon waiting on the training grounds outside the 3-E building, not exactly sure when 'dusk' started. He didn't want to show up late and make Lovro wait, so he decided to arrive early. Two hours early.

Just as the sun began to set and the sky turned a beautiful mix of purple and orange, he heard a harsh rustle coming from the bushes behind him. He spun around, expecting to find Lovro, but he saw...nothing? He glanced around wearily, expecting the assassin to materialize out of midair (seemed like an assassin thing to do) when he felt something tap his shoulder.

"I believe you're only required to come here on weekdays, Midoriya," a familiar cocky voice said. Instincts kicked in, overriding any shock, and Izuku spun around with his knife drawn. Korosensei seemed hardly phased and dodged easily while surrendering his tentacles in the air.

"Whoa there! While I applaud your reflexes, I can only stand these constant assassination attempts so many days a week!" Korosensei cried. Izuku slowly lowered his knife with a sheepish smile.

"Sorry, sensei. You scared me there. I was, uh…expecting someone else."

"Oh?" the octopus said, a mischievous grin and green stripes appearing on his face. "And who might that be? Perhaps some pretty girl, hmm?"

"No!" Izuku cried, cheeks flaming and arms flailing widely.

Korosensei's skin had changed to a light shade of pink. "No? Is it a very special boy then? Love is love!"

"No!" Izuku's voice cracked, and he buried his burning face in his palms.

"Oh really? Who is it, then?"

"It's me."

The teacher and student turned to see Lovro walk out of the tree line. Korosensei, for once in his life, looked at a loss for words.

"You?" the octopus spat, completely aghast. He grabbed Izuku by the cheeks and tugged painfully. "I'm afraid I simply cannot condone this, Midoriya! This man is incredibly too old for you — just look at his wrinkled and sunken-in face! Hardly could be considered attractive. I understand that many youngsters are drawn to older men mainly for their money, but at least hold yourself to a higher standard than that, Midoriya! Karasuma, for example—"

"Stop!" Izuku exclaimed, pushing the tentacles away. He wished desperately to dig a hole so he could curl up into a ball and die. "I'm not meeting him for…that reason! He promised to train me to become a better fighter!"

An awkward pause passed over everyone.

"Oh."

Korosensei at least had the decency to look embarrassed. Lovro sighed loudly and rubbed his face.

"With that foolishness is out of the way," the foreign assassin said. "May I get to teaching my student, Tentacle? There is much I need to cover tonight."

"Your student?" Korosensei repeated, face darkening. Oh no, they wounded his teacher pride. "I'll have you know, Mr. Lovro, that Midoriya always is and always will be my student first. And if I personally want to oversee my student's learning, I will."

The two men stared each other down, Izuku standing awkwardly between them.

"I'm afraid that is unacceptable. How do you expect young Midoriya to use any of the skills I teach him if you learn them all too?"

Izuku cleared his throat timidly. "Um, I really don't mind, sir…"

"Silence, Midoriya. I simply cannot allow this man to observe everything — especially your quirk."

Izuku stiffened instantly. Oh no no no no…

That got Korosensei to back off (though Izuku's brain now screamed for him to stay and get Izuku out of this mess), though the usual smile was yet to return to his face.

"Alright, Lovro," he said finally. "I'll let you teach my student alone. But heed my words: if I even think that you're teaching Midoriya anything I don't approve of, I will make you pay for it."

His beady eyes glowed a menacing red, and Izuku gulped, sweat dripping down his neck. Lovro didn't seem as intimidated and nodded, holding his hand out. Korosensei gripped it with his fingered tentacle, a silent agreement passing between them. Their hands dropped, and Korosensei turned back to Izuku, smiling once again.

"Well, you two have fun with your assassination training! See you in class, Midoriya!" he said before launching into the sky at Mach-20. Izuku covered his eyes from the dust kick-up. He should've grabbed onto Korosensei's tentacle, and let the man launch him away from his problems. He heard Lovro pop his knuckles, and Izuku cringed as he turned around.

"Well, Midoriya Izuku," Lovro said. "Let's begin. But first, I must ask what your quirk is so that I can incorporate it into my lessons."

"Oh, um." His mouth clammed up, his tongue dry sand. Nausea stirred in his stomach, and he wrung his fingers. Why did he ever think this was a good idea? "Y-You see, um, well, I'm…I'm qui-qui-quirkless?"

His voice pitched up at the end as if it were a question. It was — an unsaid question, at least. A question if Lovro would proceed as planned or kicked Izuku off the mountain for even daring to waste his time. Lovro gazed at him blankly, only movement in his eyes as he assessed Izuku from top to bottom. His lips pursed before audibly sighing.

"Of course." Lovro pinched the bridge of his nose. "Your training just got much more...interesting. Ten laps around the school. Now."

-.-.-.-

Training with Lovro was the definition of not fun. The man worked him with ruthless vigor, rarely giving him a break. By the end of it, Izuku felt one lap away from having heart failure. Currently, they only focused on conditioning, trying to get Izuku fit enough to make up for his lack of physical quirk — or quirk at all.

At least he's still willing to train me, the optimist in him reasoned as he dragged himself home. It was almost ten o'clock at night by the time he finally reached the tiny two-bedroom apartment his mother found not too far from Kunugigaoka. ("I don't want you to be exhausted just walking to school," she explained, completely unaware of his daily mountain trek.) His mother had sacrificed a lot to get him far away from Bakugou and into a prestigious enough academy to keep high schools from questioning his sudden transfer. She did it for his future, even turning down a promotion to take a new job here, and Izuku was so grateful. Maybe even too grateful...

It's just...he knew how badly she wanted this new school to push him to pursue a different dream than becoming a hero. The bully was the main reason she made those sacrifices, but it was ignorant to think that hope didn't justify it all for her. If she knew what he was really learning in 3-E, there's no doubt she'd drop everything to transfer him somewhere else. So he lied, blaming his absence on Kunugigaoka's intense curriculum. Why did he leave for school so early? To attend morning tutoring, of course. What was he doing at school on a weekend? His friends scheduled a study group for an upcoming quiz. Any answer but the truth.

"Mom! I'm home!" he called out when he opened the door. His mother peeked her head out from inside the kitchen, still in her work uniform. She must've just gotten home from her shift.

"Hi dear! How was the study group?" she asked. Izuku placed his backpack (filled with prop textbooks to sell his story) next to his shoes.

"It was good; definitely helped a lot," he said, wincing as he straightened his back out. No doubt he'll feel this for days.

"Oh, guess what!" his mom said cheerfully, munching on a snack. "I was talking with a customer at work, and she said that her son attended Kunugigaoka when he was younger. Apparently, she used to be scared he would drop out before high school, but he was so motivated at Kunugigaoka that he became a top-performing student! Now he's graduating first in his med program at university."

"Wow, that's...that's really incredible," Izuku said, filling up a glass of water to hide his cringe. His mother came home with these Kunugigaoka success stories almost every day for the past two weeks, likely trying to inspire him to do the same. If only she knew exactly why that customer's son became so motivated. The students in her stories were never ever in 3-E, but Izuku didn't have the heart to tell her.

"There are many promising careers you can easily pursue just having Kunugigaoka in your background: lawyer, doctor, engineer, dentist, project manager…hey, are you even listening?"

Izuku startled, knocking his glass off the counter. He swooped down to catch it, only a drop dribbling down the side. "Huh?" he said. His mom's stern gaze flattened as she stared at his cup. "Oh, sorry mom. I'm just really exhausted after studying for so long. I think I'm just gonna go to bed."

"Okay sweetie..." his mother said, eyes a bit distant as she mindlessly chewed on a rice cake.

Izuku sighed as he entered his bedroom, closing the door behind him. The giant All-Might poster above his bed greeted him, his triumphant smile giving him the motivation to keep pushing. One day, he would be on one for those posters. One day, he would bring hope for a young, broken boy like himself.

At his old apartment, every inch of his walls had been covered in posters of every hero out there. His mom had offered to help him put them back up when he moved, but Izuku declined, seeing no point. Give it a year, and he would be back in Musutafu, attending the greatest hero school in the country.

That's the dream. They just have to stop the earth from blowing up, first.

-.-.-.-

Izuku had never been very...keen on sports.

You mean you're dumpster fire trash at them, Deku? mocked the little Bakugou in his mind. It wasn't a lie. While he was half-decent at running (due to years of running away from bullies), whenever a team or a ball got added into the mix, as well as the competitive nature of it all, he crumbled. Whenever someone told him to kick a goal or throw a pitch, spirals of fear and anxiety and overanalyzed information clogged his functions, so all of his attempts turned out pitiful at best. So when Korosensei's announced plans to coach them for the upcoming exhibition baseball game between the Kunugigaoka baseball team and the 3-E boys, Izuku immediately came up with an excuse to get out of it.

Of course, in his panic, he ended up saying, "I think I'm going to be sick that day!" Which wasn't entirely a lie, since the thought of playing a sport made him ill, but definitely not believable by any means. Shinsou facepalmed, muffling whatever sarcastic retort he tried to say.

"It's okay, Midoriya. We all feel that way when it comes to competing against the main campus kids," Nagisa said comfortingly.

"No joke," Mimura exclaimed. "Everyone knows these exhibition games are just created for their entertainment."

"Nothing funnier than 3-E's total humiliation..." sighed Sugaya.

While Izuku appreciated the comradery, it didn't quell the swirling pit in his gut.

"Never fear, Young Midoriya!" Korosensei proclaimed, zipping right in front of Izuku. "With my specialized training and immaculate coaching strategies, our success is foolproof!"

The problem with that, Izuku thought anxiously as they were led to the newly polished yard, perfect for baseball training, is how can a plan be foolproof if your opponent's goal is to make you into fools?

-.-.-.-

Korosensei's idea of 'specialized training' was to move at Mach-20 so his doubles made up an entire baseball team, topped with supersonic pitches and aggravating trash talk. The whole exercise just seemed to prove everyone's suspicions — they were utter garbage at baseball. No one could hit a ball beyond bunting it, and their throwing and catching skills were subpar. Shinsou gave up moments in after Korosensei tried to make him run the bases, and the brainwasher settled for kicking pebbles at the octopus' doubles for fun with Karma. Their one saving grace was the resident baseball geek, Sugino. While quirk usage in sports was against the rules, Sugino improved his normal pitch tremendously. It kept them from being totally desolate of hope.

After falling flat on his face trying to run to first base, and just before Izuku felt he was seconds from death, their teacher stopped the practice and called Mimura to the front.

"Now, for the past few days, I've been having our best spy gather data on our opponents. Mimura, if you would," the teacher explained. The bowl-cut boy nodded and closed his eyes. When he reopened them, they emitted a glowing lighting that formed a holographic screen with live video. Not just any video — it was the Kunugigaoka baseball team practicing.

"Whoa, Mimura! That's your quirk?" Sugaya asked.

"Yup. It's called Record. I record everything I see in my head and hologram it back through my eyes," the boy answered, his voice sounding awfully strained. Tears pooled down his cheeks, irritation drawing red cracks on his sclera. "The only problem is that it kinda hurts keeping my eyes open like this."

Izuku whipped out his notebook to write this all down. Next to him, Nagisa squawked. "Where do you even keep that thing?"

Korosensei explained that while the opposing team's captain and pitcher, Shindo, had an extremely impressive fastball, it was nothing compared to what Korosensei trained them with. When they go to bat against Shindo, they should have no problem bunting the ball with precision.

"I knew I couldn't make you home-run hitters in a few days," Korosensei elaborated. "But I had absolute faith that I could train your reaction time pitches going upwards 300 kilometers per hour, so any normal pitch would seem like slow motion. And when it comes down to it, this is just like any other assassin versus target situation. You all have the skills to go after someone like me, so don't stress about these smaller opponents. Now, back to practice! We have a game to win!"

Izuku groaned as he grabbed his baseball glove, stealing it back from Shinsou (who used it as an eye mask as he napped). He certainly hoped Korosensei was right.

-.-.-.-

To the shock of everyone, they started the game out surprisingly strong. Korosensei's training and strategy worked to the T, and it was obvious the other team was getting flustered. As Sugino went up to bat, clearing the bases and landing himself on third, Izuku actually believed their Assassination Baseball mission was a success.

But then the Kunugigaoka team got a coaching change, and Principal Asano took his place.

Everything fell apart. After the baseball team's timeout with the principal, the entire team moved completely infield, and the umpire didn't make any call on it. Their bunting strategy turned useless, and dread ate away at Izuku's beating heart as it became his turn to bat. He turned desperately to Korosensei, who posed in the outfield as a stray baseball and gave them directions by changing colors as a type of code. Instead of providing guidance, however, the octopus merely covered his face in shame.

"Nothing?!" he cried, feet dragging all the way to the plate. If he threw up on home plate, would that get him out of it, or would the umpire just declare automatically disqualification for 3-E? It may not matter either way, his stomach lurching as he stared at the Kunugigaoka team. Instead of baseball players, he faced mindless creatures with only one goal: to crush him. Their blank expressions reminded Izuku of Shinsou's quirk.

Shindo pitched his famous fastball and Izuku could do nothing but desperately pop it up. It was caught easily, and he's never been more relieved to hear he was out.

"What kind of animal is Principal Asano?" he bemoaned in the dugout, collapsing next to Shinsou on the bench. "It's like a completely different group of people! I was worried they would tear my limbs off."

"He clearly has a manipulation quirk," Shinsou said, the bored (bored bored) expression he's worn since baseball practice started finally gone, replaced by genuine intrigue. His eyes tracked the principal's every move. "And it has something to do with his eyes. The players wouldn't stop staring into his eyes when he was talking. At first, I thought it was some kind of hypnosis quirk, but I think it's much more complex than that…"

Izuku nodded. "I mean, quirks are usually genetic, so it's probably pretty similar to his son's. Omniscience, right?"

"Yeah. When Asano makes skin-to-skin contact, he automatically knows things about you. The more or longer he touches you, the deeper the things he learns about you get," Shinsou explained. The brainwasher sighed and leaned back, covering his eyes with his arm. "I'm not sure how that ties into his father. Maybe he looks you in the eye and knows how to manipulate you?"

It was a scary thought, especially for a man like Principal Asano. Izuku remembered the first time he met the man, during his quirk evaluation for the school. His cruel laugh haunted Izuku, echoing in his ears. To think a look was all it took to manipulate you...nothing terrified Izuku more.

-.-.-.-

The game continued growing grimmer and grimmer. While they kept their opponents from scoring at the bottom of the first, E-class was completely shut down again by the cheap crowding tactics and was out within the first three batters. The Kunugigaoka team came back at the bottom of the second with a vengeance, scoring two runs. When it came to the top of the third, E-class got a new strategy from the least likely source. Shinsou and Karma finally joined the action, using their antagonistic nature for good. They shamelessly pissed off the crowd with harsh insults and mocked their opponents for resorting to cheating. As Shinsou walked up to bat, he even called Shindo a cowardly mindless dog. The pitcher's nostrils flared at the insult, unaware of Shinsou's smirk.

"You better watch your mouth, E-class freak!" Shindo spat, rearing back to throw. Shinsou merely shrugged and halfheartedly held his bat up to swing.

"Or what? It's not like you'll hit me or anything."

The pitcher's face fell as he winded up to throw, sending his famous fastball right for Shinsou's chest. The boy leaned back, avoiding a direct hit, letting the ball just skim his arm; an undeniably a hit, no matter how biased the umpire was. Shinsou walked to first base without a care in the world.

"Wow. I can't believe he actually hit him," Karma mused, smirking. Shindo stared at his hand as if it had acted on its own accord. It very well could've.

Did Shinsou really use his quirk?

Shinsou was always so conservative his quirk, only doing it when he felt it was safe or if he was desperate; he was yet to even use it on Korosensei. In this case, it worked in his favor; unless you knew what to look for, it was too subtle to pick up. Any bystanders probably just thought the pitcher slipped up, and no one called him for cheating.

The look on the principal's face, however, was way too unsettling; his eyes tracked Shinsou, a predator spotting new prey. His lips curled up, forming a cruel smirk.

-.-.-.-

By some unbelievable miracle, they actually won the game. When it came Shindo's turn to bat at last inning, Korosensei pulled out his final strategy — having Shinsou and Karma stand just feet away from the batter, blatantly distracting and intimidating the baseball player. And, as Karma pointed out, the umpire couldn't do a thing since he refused to call the opposing team for their extensive defense earlier. Izuku could just barely hear the boys' trash talk from his spot on third base.

"You okay there, Mr. Chosen One? You're not worried about hitting us, are you?" Karma teased. Shindo gritted his teeth, eyes shifting wildly between Shinsou and Karma. When Sugino pitched, the boy swung madly, bat coming centimeters from the two boys as they expertly dodged, and the ball landed safely in Nagisa's catcher glove behind the plate.

"Strike!" the umpire called.

"You seem a little shaken, Shindo. Strange how easily your control slip, huh?" Shinsou mocked cruelly.

That seemed to make Shindo finally snap. His next swing was entirely off, letting the ball bounce to the ground in front of Karma, who tossed it to Nagisa to get the person running from third out. Suddenly Izuku saw the ball being tossed to him, and he barely had time to react, throwing his hands in front of his face defensively. To his shock, the ball landed cleanly in his glove, getting the player running from second base out.

"C'mon, Izuku! Throw it to first!" his teammates cried. Izuku, dazed and scrambled, threw the ball with all his might. Pre-Korosensei training, the ball would've likely only gone a few meters, but now it sailed all the way over to Sugaya on first base. It landed right in front of the gray-haired boy, who easily scooped it up, getting Shindo out. Three outs. Game over.

It took a good minute of screaming from the biased announcer before it dawned on Izuku that they actually won. Maehara jogged by and gave Izuku a celebratory pat on the back while Kimura complimented his catch.

"Not bad for someone who was supposed to be sick today," Shinsou said, arms crossed behind his back.

"I can't believe we won. The crowd sure doesn't look too happy about it." Izuku eyed the outraged stadium.

"Who cares? It's about time we showed them we're more than laughingstocks."

Just as they left the field, Izuku realized he left his notebook in the dugout. "One sec, I'll be right back!" Shinsou looked at him like he was mad, probably wondering why anyone brought a notebook to a baseball game (in Izuku's defense, you never know when a perfect quirk demonstration will happen). He jogged back, notebook grasped firmly in his hand, only to come to a dead stop. Shinsou stood in the space spot, his expression bored — masking-face bored, but he wasn't masking happiness or shock like usual. This was something new entirely — masking sheer terror.

Principal Asano stood behind Shinsou, his hand placed firmly on the boy's shoulder. He towered over him as he leaned down, saying something directly into Shinsou's ear, his charismatic yet cruel smile present the entire time. Shinsou didn't move a muscle, but his body was tense like a frightened animal bracing for an attack. Just as quickly as he appeared, the principal walked away, his smile unceasing.

Izuku approached his frozen friend with dragging steps. Shinsou looked ready to spring at any moment, and Izuku didn't want to startle him anymore. He hoped his slow approach would give Shinsou time to notice him first, but the boy seemed to be having a staring contest with the floor. Even when Izuku stood right next to him, he didn't blink, didn't glance his way. Izuku slowly reach out a hand, just brushing Shinsou's shoulder, and his best friend jerked back like it was a slap.

"Shinsou…"

Shinsou's tired eyes darting around, looking for a threat — looking for Principal Asano. He still wouldn't look at Izuku. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it, Jolly Green. Let's just...let's just go home, okay?"

No, it wasn't okay. There was so much Izuku wanted to say, to ask. Shinsou's fear was written all over his body; what kind of friend would Izuku be if he acted like this was okay? Principal Asano was a manipulative monster, and even though Shinsou was the most indifferent, stubborn person he knew, there was little doubt the principal easily saw right threw any facade. Izuku wanted to push, needed to, but the way Shinsou reacted...Izuku feared it would only scare him away more.

Halfway through their walk home, Izuku finally asked, "You're not in any kind of trouble, are you?"

Shinsou stopped walking, and it was only through training with Korosensei that Izuku could halt without ramming into his back.

"I don't know," the brainwasher finally responded. "Are you?"

"With wha-" Izuku paused, realizing what Shinsou meant. Lovro. His shoulders sagged. Why were they both such a mess? "I...I don't know."

It was an honest answer, but it wasn't the truth. Not the full truth, at least. There was so much more his heart ached to say. If he started lying now, it would only wear him down to keep it up; he's learned that the hard way with his mom. But what choice did he have? Lovro told him to keep their training secret, and a man that powerful was not a man you betrayed lightly. He didn't want to keep feeding into Shinsou's defenses, but he must in order to protect his own.

Assassination was, after all, work established on secrets.

-.-.-.-

For once, Izuku's prayers were answered, and when he met up with Shinsou early the next morning, things returned back to normal. They made an unsaid agreement to move past the awkward confrontations the day before and followed their routine. Their daily morning sparring session ended in yet another draw, each with a knife at the other's throat. Instead of cleaning up to go inside, however, Shinsou stayed back, digging through his bag.

"Shinsou?" Izuku called. His friend didn't reply but looked up slowly, a suspicious gleam in his eye. That was all the answer Izuku needed. He was still a second too slow.

Before he could jump to safety, Shinsou dropped his bag and flicked out his arms. An unidentifiable object rocketed from his palms and wrapped around Izuku's arm and leg in seconds. Shinsou yanked, and Izuku's body tumbled and dragged, finally flopping on his back. The sky above spun, trees warping into each other. What...just...happened...

"Is this…string?" Izuku struggled to crane his head. "Did you just take me out with- with a yoyo?"

Shinsou shrugged smugly, tugging his hands back. The string around his arms released, unwinding, but his legs didn't budge. Shinsou tugged a few more times before groaning, knealing down to free Izuku by hand.

"It's modified yoyo if that makes you feel any better," he explained. It didn't. "I got the idea watching Itona and Korosensei attack each other with their tentacles, using them to get extra reach. I'm still working out the kinks, but the whole invention thing was never really my forte."

Once he freed Izuku's legs, Shinsou held out the small devices for Izuku to get a better look. There were two identical metal spheres, only about two to three centimeters in diameter, with a hole that dispensed the string winded up inside. A metal ring at the end of the string slipped onto Shinsou's middle fingers. His friend demonstrated pushing the sphere up against the ring and clicking it in place, disguising it as an odd fashion choice.

"That's so cool Shinsou! You really did that yourself?" Izuku asked, eyes wide. The brainwasher hummed bashfully.

"I got a lot of help from one of my foster siblings. She has a reverse-engineering type quirk, but she's only seven so it's pretty limited. They're bulkier than I'd like, and the range on could be better. It's also shit trying to aim them; I practiced for literal weeks just to grab one thing. I also wish I could find something stronger than string that's just as malleable, but there's nothing remotely cheap enough."

"They're still awesome. It matches your whole 'puppet master' vibe — in a good way, of course! I've always thought when you used your quirk it felt like it was holding me with strings, I mean."

Shinsou blinked. "Really?"

"Yeah. Has no one ever told you?" Izuku asked, confused. The brainwasher shrugged.

"Well, most people who experience my quirk are too scared to talk to me ever again…" he answered, lips pursed.

Izuku's face fell. Shinsou mentioned it before; the backlash he received because of his quirk, how it made him wish he was quirkless at times. It angered Midoriya; not at Shinsou, but for him. Growing up, Izuku believed every quirk was a blessing. It wasn't until coming to E-class that he realize having a quirk didn't immediately people wouldn't still treat you like shit on pretense,

But, as he threw his arm over his friend's shoulder to cheer him up, smiling widely as he pulls him into class; and as he was greeted by his classmates, who slowly felt more and more like friends, like family; and as he absentmindedly stabbed at Korosensei during geometry reviews, he couldn't help but feel more accepted than ever before.

And while he's still working up the nerve to tell them, Izuku's heart told him that even when they learned he was quirkless, those feelings would never change.