"You might be wondering why you're here, Mr. Midoriya," Nozomi began, sipping her jasmine tea. She, Maijima (Power Loader), and Mr. Midoriya were sitting in her office, with the young man sitting before them while Power Loader was leaning against a wall near a bookshelf filled with (what else?) books.
"I am, miss Nozomi," he replied, fiddling with his NTC in his hands, tossing it back and forth from either hand or rubbing the center of it.
"Don't worry, you're not in trouble. In fact, we're very pleasantly surprised by your actions, especially with helping your fellow classmates with their heroine costume," Nozomi said. "Maijima, if you will?"
"Understood. Mr. Midoriya, the principal looked over the footage from yesterday in your class and showed it to me, and I must say that I'm thoroughly impressed with your fabricator," Power Loader started, "Is there any way we can convince you to make one for the Support Department? It would save a lot of time and money from contacting our support gear companies."
"Hmm…" he hummed, rubbing his chin in thought, "I'll make one for the school, if and only if you abide by my terms."
"Name them," Nozomi said cheerfully, holding a pen in her hand with a blank piece of paper on her desk.
"First, if I ask for supplies in bulk you will deliver it to me. We'll work out the place to put it later," he bargained, watching as the principal wrote down his demands. "Second, I want to have the student Hatsume Mei able to work on her babies after school, for a maximum of three hours. She keeps complaining she doesn't have enough 'baby-making' time, so I want to alleviate that."
"I like this human," Nozomi thought, "Not wholly selfish, and wanting to help others? Simply noble."
"Finally, and this is the most important, I want 20% of all the money saved by using my SIF—that's the name of my fabricator—to be sent to me and my mother equally. Any problems with that?" he asked with faux confidence, internally freaking out from being so commanding. Thankfully, Desiree was talking to him and keeping him steady, reassuring him that what he was doing was completely fine.
"I see no problems with these terms! Do you, Maijima?"
"A little. Hatsume is a great student, hell, she'll probably accomplish her goals of creating her own support company, but she's a danger to the class with her near-constant explosions. Having her unsupervised will probably spell the end of the classroom and/or herself," Power Loader argued, crossing her arms together.
"How about I install one of my AIs into the room to keep an eye on her? It'll watch over her and alert her when something bad is going to happen," he explained, hoping they'd see reason.
The two adults looked over to each other, communicating without words as Power Loader gave in and sighed, "Okay, but only in the Support Department. I don't want your AI to be all over U.A.'s servers and systems," she told him.
"That's A-Okay with me, miss Power Loader. JARVIS, you there?" he called out to his AI as he turned on the external speakers on his sunglasses.
"For you, Sir, always," he intoned, his Britishness on full display.
"How do feel being a babysitter to my friend Hatsume?" he asked playfully.
"Considering that you have a baby-monitoring program for yourself, I do not mind babysitting another inventor, Sir," JARVIS sassed back. "Hello by the way, Miss Power Loader and Miss Principal Nozomi," his AI greeted.
"Hello, Mr. JARVIS. If you don't mind my asking, when did Mr. Midoriya create you?" Nozomi asked curiously.
"My Sir created me nine months, two weeks, ten days, 14 hours, fifty-six minutes, and eleven seconds ago. I've been learning everyday, as per my programming," he explained.
"My my. Fascinating…" the principal trailed off, thinking of all the possibilities that an AI could give her. "We've kept you here long enough, Mr. Midoriya, but before you go, how long do you estimate it'll take to build the fabricator?"
"If I work nonstop, eighty-four hours. If I take breaks, then a month," he explained as he put his NTC back on his sternum, feeling protected.
"I understand, please do not strain yourself in making it, young man," she requested, watching as he left the room.
As soon as the door closed behind him Power Loader suddenly declared, "He's a genius Nozomi. I wish he was in class 1-H with Hatsume, those two would take the world by storm."
"He wants to be a more active hero though, and he won't accomplish that by helping other heroines," the chimera argued, "Though I do see your point."
"So you're the 'infamous' class 1-A, aren't you? You don't look like much," Monoma insulted, standing outside the class doors. It was after school and before anyone could leave, Monoma and the rest of class 1-B was standing outside their classroom, sizing them up.
"Oi, get the hell out of our way, extra," Bakugo insulted back, unable to get through the crowd.
"'Extra?' My oh my, and belligerent too, huh? Your little display makes me wonder why you guys got all the limelight when you got attacked at the USJ. I'm confident that my friends," he made a grand gesture to the students standing behind him, "could've handled the situation better, unlike you D-listers."
"You're fucking dead!" Katsumi shouted, about to lunge at the blond before being held back by Kirishima and Kaminari, the hotheaded girl trying to break free from their hold.
"Kacchan, calm down. This woman is trying to rile you up and it's working," Midoriya whispered to his childhood friend. "Are you seriously going to let her win?"
That caused Bakugo to calm down, enough to where her friends let her go. "We're gonna win that stupid festival, got that, blondie?!"
"Sure sure, try all you want. Good luck to that quirkless man anyways," Monoma taunted as she left the way she came in, almost all the students leaving with her, except a lilac-haired student with severe eyebags.
"You guys are nice, aren't you?" the mystery woman began, picking her ear with her pinky finger. "I failed to get into the hero course, so I got into Gen Ed instead. Seeing you act like a bunch of dicks makes me wonder what the future of heroics look like."
"JARVIS, who is she?" Midoriya asked.
"Her name is Shinso Hitomi, Sir."
"Miss Shinso, is it?" Midoriya managed to weasel his way to the front, past Bakugo and some of the other students.
"I didn't say my name, but yeah. What is it?"
"Kacchan isn't a representative to our entire class, just as I'm sure that the blond student from earlier doesn't make her entire class look like sexist assholes. We earned our right to be here, and if you do well enough, I'll be glad to welcome you to class 1-A personally, if you get in," Midoriya promised, a challenging grin on his face.
Shinso's eyes widened in surprise before she schooled her features, adopting an aloof tone as she said, "Whatever." She left soon after, allowing them to leave, finally.
Midoriya was in his Secret Lab on the floor, working on building another SIF, absentmindedly wondering whether he should rename it to the "MILF" as FRIDAY liked to call it, as it would be funnier and more amusing to see others' reactions to the name than the "SIF," which usually brought confusion. He added another spanner to the plethora of tools it already had, knowing it needed at least a hundred different types of a specific tool for each tool to make it versatile enough to be usable. "Hey, J, play something old fashioned, will ya?" he requested, hearing music stream through the loudspeakers that Izuku had installed recently throughout the Secret Lab. It was a pain in the ass to install each and every speaker at specific points to make it sound seamless, but it was a price he was willing to pay over his personal weekend.
He got up to hydrate himself with some soda when he found that Hatsume left behind her hover boots when Miguel decided to visit. He considered stopping his own work to finish hers when he realized he wouldn't like that if someone did that to one of his inventions, so he portaled over to the Support Department and deposited the baby at his science bro's workbench, untouched as it was left. "J, if I keep up the pace how much longer will building the second SIF take?"
"Approximately 61 more hours, Sir," JARVIS answered before asking, "Shall I prepare a pizza in the meantime?"
"Do that, yeah, that sounds great," Midoriya encouraged as he wiped the sweat off his forehead. He had set up an automatic pepperoni pizza maker in the kitchen area of his Secret Lab, as no pizza delivery girl could ever dream of crossing literal multiversal boundaries to deliver his pizza. Not that he admitted it to anyone who'd listen, but he paid off the owner of his favorite pizza joint to get the recipe for their delicious pizzas.
It was worth it, he thought.
Nearly twenty minutes later, after he finished installing the central console of the second SIF, he heard the timer for the pizza go off before hearing the machinery move the food out of the oven and cut it into triangle shapes for easier consumption. He stalked on over to his kitchen which was the size of a two bedroom apartment in America (which is to say it was big), going over to the stainless steel sink and lathering his hands with soap, washing his hands of the dirt and grime he accumulated before drying it off with paper towels. Midoriya then got a paper plate and put two slices of pepperoni pizza on his plate and brought it over to his Queen-sized bed which was in his personal quarters, as he didn't feel like sitting at his dining room table. He took pleasurable bites from the pizza, enjoying it thoroughly as he downed some of his flask, which was full of Pepsi.
Life was good, he considered overall. There wasn't anything too mounting that he had to be wary of (no, he wasn't counting the Sports Festival), he had friends that had his back, and he recently had sex with a previous stark hater of his.
What could possibly go wrong?
Currently, in Midoriya's original universe
Somewhere dark and foreboding, filled with the sound of heart monitor going off, was a woman on her last legs of her life. Most of her face was gone, most importantly her eyes and her nose, covered in scar tissue. There was a respirator attached to her face, providing oxygen, though she wondered what the sweet release of death would feel like. Without being able to see conventionally, without being able to smell, she pressed a button with Braille on it as she called out, "Shigaraki."
"Yes, Sensei?" came the immediate voice of her protégé, one known as Shigaraki Tomoko, on a nearby monitor (not that the dying woman could see it). The teenager had baby blue hair and was covered in severed human hands, one being on her face, covering most of it.
"I'm sorry I was radio silent with you after your assault on the USJ," she apologized, but it didn't sound genuine, rather it was like it was said to satiate someone to not enter an argument. "Doctor Garaki needed to do an experimental quirk surgery to save my dwindling life. How did it go?" the mystery dying woman questioned, her voice radiating pure leadership and power, even with her on her last legs on her bed.
"It went horrible, Sensei! Kurogiri and me watched as the cannon fodder got TPK'd! Even the Nomu was no match for All Might, that cheating bitch!" Shigaraki shouted, scratching her neck hastily, as if it was a nervous tick of hers.
"Calm down, Shigaraki. Did you not gather useful data of the students' quirks?" Sensei asked, tilting her head in curiosity. This was a setback, but not one they couldn't recover from. As long as they gathered info on the next generation of heroine hopefuls, all was not lost.
The teenager nodded to herself before saying, "Yes, we managed to get a good idea of their quirks. But Sensei, there was a man on the battlefield," Shigaraki revealed, remembering her beatdown vividly.
"Hmm, a Gen Ed or Support Course student, I imagine," the dying woman hypothesized, for both herself and her protégé.
"No, Sensei, he was a part of the heroine course," the teenager dared to correct, though this caused her Sensei to pause in surprise.
"Really? Are you sure?" she asked, making a thinking gesture in her bed.
"Yes. Though it was like he had a quirk, what with his flying metal armor that could shoot lasers and all sorts of things!"
"Oh? Shigaraki, please recount your encounter with him, in detail," Sensei instructed and stressed, waiting for the story she was now getting hyped for.
"I was standing around, watching as the Nomu was fighting a downed Eraserhead, when a flying suit of armor came by and disorientated us by releasing a loud sound. The suit of armor then released a blinding flash like a stun grenade, before then sending the Nomu flying into the Flood Zone with a barrage of lasers! The suit of armor approaches me and after a back and forth, the armor's helmet retracts to show a man was inside the whole time, piloting it like a Titan from Titanfall 2. He slams into me by flying and I try to disintegrate his armor, but he ejects the compromised pieces like it was a cakewalk. He then sent these two devices at my hands, it forming together to make a five-finger restraint glove, which I couldn't take off without Kurogiri's help later. He knocked me out, and Kurogiri told me later that he dealt with my Nomu by dodging and giving All Might spiked knuckle dusters, allowing her to cheat and beat up the monster easily," she finished recounting the tale, huffing and puffing she was out of breath. She waited for her Sensei to say something, anything.
…
…
…
"This is an excellent development," the dying woman finally said, a grin on her face showing all of her teeth.
"Huh? How is this a good thing, Sensei? Isn't this a bad thing?" Shigaraki asked, confused as she scratched her head with her pointer finger.
Sensei sighed fondly as she replied, "Still a bit short-sighted, aren't we, Tomoko?"
The younger girl blushed before saying, "I guess I am, sorry."
"It's of no consequence, I'll explain myself so you can understand," the dying woman began, "You see, this is the beginning of the downfall of the heroines."
"It is?"
"Yes, Shigaraki. This man, despite all preconceptions of his sex, is a diamond in the rough, obviously being a genius to have contended with young women with quirks of their own and against a Nomu that was designed to fight All Might. He must be an inventor, a creator of things if you will, to have created a flying piece of metal armor that could do all that. And if I were a betting woman, I'd say that wasn't the fullest extent of his abilities."
Tomoko watched and listened with pure awe, rapt with attention as she heard the thought process of her precious Sensei.
"Do we have this young man's name?" Sensei asked.
"Yes, I managed to get it after destroying the infamous U.A. barrier. His name is Midoriya Izuku."
"What a fine name, if a little bit on the nose," the dying woman thought aloud, "If we want to succeed, we need to assess the danger and genius level of the man, and hopefully with some finagling we can turn him to the side of villainy."
"Sensei, you wish to change his alignment?" the teenager stupidly parroted.
"Let me put it this way, the way I imagine how the world treated this 'Midoriya Izuku,' and how he handled it," Sensei started, "He got told at a young age, probably by the age of four, that he would never develop a quirk, that he'd never become a hero. This sent him into a depressive spiral, finding the comfort of books to be his only real friend, as all the girls in his class ostracized him for not having a quirk and for being the only male in the school, since male births are such a rare thing, especially nowadays. Over time he amassed great knowledge and became a practitioner of the mechanical arts, able to build to his heart's content with a limited budget, assumedly from doing chores around the house, or much less likely doing what Breeders are good at."
"Sensei, sorry to interrupt, but why do you think he wouldn't be a Breeder? Aren't they important and pay well, at least for the man?"
"That's exactly why he wouldn't be a Breeder, Tomoko."
"Huh?"
"The fact that being a Breeder means the embarrassment of asking his caretaker, presumably his mother, to take him to essentially masturbate and then doing what society has been telling him his whole life to be? He would most likely not do it, purely out of spite. Now, back to my theory, he probably got picked up by a wealthy businesswoman or tech company early on and they gave him the resources he needed to pursue his goal of being a hero, despite his lack of quirk. He bears the ridicule and hateful barbs sent his way for most of his life until the day of the U.A. Practical, where he then shows his genius by using his suit of armor to easily win it, and probably acing the written portion of the exam too, now that I think of it. Past that I have nothing more to say for the young man, barring that he probably bears resentment to most women for treating him so callously."
"Sensei, you will never fail impressing me with your insightful commentaries," Shigaraki praised.
"It's not too hard to do, Tomoko. You yourself will be able to do the same when given enough time to learn and grow like I have," the dying woman encouraged. "Now, we simply must get this man, preferably meeting with me first."
"Understood, Sensei. I'll have Kurogiri kidnap him and—"
"No kidnapping of any kind," Sensei interrupted, holding up a hand in the "stop" gesture, even though her apprentice wouldn't be able to see it over the audio only line. "We must endear him to us, we must make him want to go through one of Kurogiri's portal willingly," she explained. "Kidnapping him out of nowhere will only strengthen his ties to the heroine world, and possibly make him have a vendetta against us for endangering him and/or his mother. Think of this as a growing exercise, Tomoko. Your new task is to get Midoriya Izuku endeared to us, you must make him want to hear us out and pit him against the heroines. Do you understand?" she asked.
"Yes, Sensei. I'll win this, don't worry," Shigaraki assured her Sensei.
"Good, I have high expectations. I expect you to be able to do this before the Sports Festival. It is fine if this occurs after the event, I just want to meet the lad soon, as he had piqued my admittedly high interests. Do not fail me, Tomoko," she warned, ending communications with her protégé.
Finally, things were getting interesting again.
After five years of nothing, something amazing was going to be happening, and hopefully, soon.