It was hard to sit through normal classes while Midoriya was off proving himself. Hitoshi hadn't thought it would be this hard. He sat at his desk, alternately trying to pay attention and gazing out the window, wondering how it was going. Midoriya's desk sat empty beside his, as though a space in the shape of his friend had been carved into his life and now stood hollow. He wondered if someone else would take that desk when Midoriya transferred, and who that someone would be.

He had just decided that it would probably be some unfortunate member of the support course who he'd then have to deal with until his own transfer when a loud, blaring alarm cut through his thoughts.

"Level Five Security Breach," came a voice, measured but urgent, over the PA system. "All faculty are summoned to the USJ immediately. All students are dismissed."

The USJ? But that was where Midoriya was! What kind of security breach was there? What kind of situation could require every single Pro Hero on campus at once to deal with it? Surely nothing could be so bad as to really need that many pros. They were just being overly cautious. Right?

The message repeated, but before it had even finished its first run through students were talking over it, turning in their seats to face one another.

"Didn't we just have a security breach?" asked a boy two rows over from Hitoshi. "Is security here really that bad?" demanded a girl near the front.

"Maybe it's just the press again," suggested someone who Hitoshi couldn't see in the opposite corner of the room.

"That was a level three breach," pointed out the girl just behind them. "This is level five."

Hitoshi ignored them all and raised his hand. "Sensei, what's going on?" he called over the crowd and the alarm, without waiting to be called on.

"Class dismissed," was the only answer he got. "Everyone collect your things and go home. Now!"

The rest of the class began to pack up at once, ignoring the alarm blaring overhead as their teacher bolted from the room. Hitoshi watched him go with a sense of deep unease. His gut twisted, making him want to puke, and his fingers shook as he packed his things with methodical slowness. His extremities felt strangely cold.

The alarm barely registered to him as he filed outside with the others, and he felt curiously

insulated from both it and the crowd around him. Once he was outside it was quieter, but he didn't join the throng heading for the main gate, leaving it even further behind. Instead he stepped to one side of the main stairs, sheltering behind the low wall flanking them, and waited. The staff, all the non-heroes who worked at UA, were shepherding students out and away from the school, but he ducked down when one of them looked at him.

He wasn't going anywhere until he got some answers.

"Hey!" said a voice behind him, startling him as he risked a peek beyond the wall.

"What the hell!" he cried, the sound only covered by the loudness of the alarm, and whirled around to see Hatsume crouching beside him.

"Did Midoriya come back yet?" she asked urgently, apparently uncaring that she'd managed to surprise him.

"No," Hitoshi shook his head, "he's still at the USJ, where the security breach is."

"Did your teacher tell you anything?" Hatsume demanded, and Hitoshi was surprised to see she actually looked pretty worried. She hadn't previously struck him as the type to get nervous, over anything. She seemed more a woman of action.

"Nothing," Hitoshi informed her, watching as her look of anxiety deepened. "I don't know what to do. I'm not leaving until I find out what happened to him."

"Do you have his number?" Hatsume asked. "Call him. Or text him. Something!"

Hitoshi took out his phone, intent on doing just that. Then suddenly he paused. If there was a security breach as serious as the alarm made it sound, then there might be something or someone genuinely dangerous at the USJ. If so, then it would probably be Midoriya's best bet to hide. What if his phone wasn't on silent? Would the sound of it going off alert someone to his presence?

"I don't know," Hitoshi looked at his phone, his fingers clenched white-knuckled around it. "I don't know, I don't know!"

"Hey," said Hatsume, taking Hitoshi abruptly by the shoulders. "Midoriya's clever. He'll keep himself out of trouble, I know it, and he'll come back here when it's over. We just have to wait for him."

"Right," said Hitoshi, and took a deep breath to steady his nerves. It felt good to have a plan. "We just have to wait."

After about half an hour, when all of the other students were well off campus, the alarm stopped going off. Its sudden absence was nearly as jarring as its sudden presence. Hitoshi wondered if it meant that whatever was going on was over, or if it had just stopped because there was no one left to hear it. Eventually he and Hatsume deemed it safe to come out from behind the wall and sit on the stairs. No one came to shoo them off, so they stayed there, talking quietly together. Hatsume didn't seem capable of shutting up, and Hitoshi had to admit that the small part of him that wasn't dying with worry appreciated the fact that she was willing to talk to him. So few people had been, in the past.

Hours passed, until the sun was low on the horizon and the sky was a hazy orange. Hitoshi agonized again and again over whether or not to call or text Midoriya. It had to be over by now, didn't it? The teachers had left ages ago. Surely it wouldn't take that many pros so long to deal with a security breach. What if Midoriya had just gone straight home from the USJ, or some

alternative form of transportation had been arranged?

Or maybe something happened to him, supplied an uncharitable part of his brain.

"Shut up," Hitoshi whispered to himself, low enough that Hatsume couldn't hear. It didn't help.

The sun had nearly gone down, purple twilight settling over the front steps of UA, when suddenly Hitoshi heard another alarm. It was distant, coming from beyond the gates, but it seemed to be getting closer. Eventually Hitoshi identified it as not an alarm, but a siren. An ambulance siren.

He and Hatsume stood up as the gates parted to admit the ambulance. Hitoshi's heart was lead as he watched it pull up, and Hatsume had to tug him out of the way as it approached the steps. They stood watching, silent and transfixed, as the doors opened and a few paramedics jumped out. One of them began unfolding a ramp from the back of the ambulance, but Hitoshi could remain still no longer.

"Please," he said, taking a few shaky steps toward the man. "Is there a boy in there? With green hair? He's my friend. Is . . . is he OK?"

The paramedic shook his head, and a spike of terror shot through Hitoshi. Which of his questions had he been answering? That there wasn't a boy with green hair in there? That he wasn't OK? He had to be OK! He wasn't dead at least, otherwise they wouldn't have had the siren on-

Hitoshi's questions were all answered when the stretcher was pulled out. Strapped down and covered in a blanket, looking unsettlingly pale and drawn, was a girl with short brown hair. He knew it wasn't particularly becoming of him, given that she was obviously still injured, but he couldn't help the relief that spread through him. Behind him he heard Hatsume release a breath. Apparently she didn't have any more decency than him.

"Where are the rest of the students?" Hitoshi asked the paramedic, but he was already lifting one end of the stretcher and preparing to carry it up the steps to the door.

Hatsume put a hand on Hitoshi's shoulder and pulled him back, and they resumed their position on the stairs. Now that Hitoshi knew that something dire had indeed happened he found it even harder not to worry. It had to be over, if they were sending people away in ambulances, didn't it? Surely it was safe to call Midoriya now?

He hadn't quite managed to convince himself of this when suddenly Hatsume shoved at his shoulder to get his attention. He looked up, to see her pointing at the gate, where two buses were currently being admitted. The two of them ran forward again as the first one stopped and began disgorging students. Some of the hero students looked at them curiously, but Hitoshi didn't care about them as he watched more and more people get off the bus. He felt like he was about to vibrate out his skin as he watched a boy in plate armor come out, followed by a girl with long fleshy wires dangling from her ears, and then suddenly Midoriya was coming into view on the stairs.

He was just turning away from the person behind him, his eyes going to the ambulance as he stepped onto solid ground. Hitoshi didn't think, he immediately ran forward and didn't so much go up to as collide with Midoriya, catching the smaller boy up in his arms and hugging him tight.

"Mido!" he cried, squeezing so vigorously Midoriya was nearly lifted off his feet.

"Shinchan!" Midoriya replied, sounding surprised and oddly out of breath.

"Are you OK?" Hitoshi demanded, pulling away from Midoriya to hold him at arm's length and

give him a quick once over. "The heroes all left, and we were told to just go home, but they didn't give us any information about what had happened and then an ambulance arrived and oh my god is that blood?!"

There was, in fact, blood on Midoriya's jacket, staining the edges of three large slashes like claw marks in the fabric. It wasn't a lot, clearly they hadn't bled very much, but the sight of the dark stains made Hitoshi's heart clench painfully anyway. He turned Midoriya to the side and pulled up his shirt and jacket, to find a large pad of gauze taped over the area beneath the slash marks.

"I'm fine," Midoriya insisted as Hitoshi examined him. "The cuts aren't deep. What are you doing here?"

Hitoshi looked up at him, eyes wide and blinking rapidly. He opened his mouth to ask, to demand Midoriya tell him why they wouldn't be here, why they wouldn't have waited for him, but before he could speak suddenly something over Midoriya's shoulder caught his attention. Students were getting off the other bus, most of them glancing at the scene they were making without pausing, but one boy had stepped off to one side and stopped. He had a very strange appearance, with half his hair red and the other half white, one gray eye and one blue, and a prominent burn scar across half his face. He was staring at Midoriya with an unreadable expression. Hitoshi met his eye, his grip on Midoriya tightening.

"Waiting for you, green bean," said Hatsume, covering Hitoshi's distraction. "You didn't think we'd just leave without making sure you were alright, did you?"

"I hadn't thought about it," Midoriya replied, making Hitoshi turn back to him. It was just like Midoriya to honestly not have considered that anyone would wait for him.

"What happened?" Hitoshi asked. He found as he did so that he had to fight the urge to touch Midoriya's hair, to brush some of it out of his face, even though it wasn't long enough to hang in his eyes.

"We got attacked by a bunch of villains!" said a new voice, striking Hitoshi with how strangely chipper it was.

He looked up, to see a boy with spiky red hair and no shirt on the stairs of the bus behind Midoriya. He was smiling with a mouthful of very sharp teeth, and he didn't look at all worse for wear at being caught in such an attack. Immediately Hitoshi went on the defensive. Did he think this was some kind of game? Someone had gotten hurt! Was this playtime for him, while civilians came away bloodied?

Abruptly Midoriya took Hitoshi by the arm and towed him back towards Hatsume, letting the sharp-toothed boy step off the bus. Behind him came a girl with pink skin and two small horns amid her equally pink hair. Hitoshi regarded them both with suspicion, then suddenly remembered the boy with the two-toned hair. He looked back, but the boy was gone.

"Who're your friends Midoriya?" asked the pink girl. Inexplicably this made Hitoshi's skin crawl, but Midoriya was gripping him tightly by the arm, so he swallowed his indignation.

"Oh!" Midoriya gasped, as though only just realizing he would be called upon to give introductions. "These are my friends: Hitoshi Shinsou, from Gen Ed with me, and Mei Hatsume of the Support Course."

Hatsume gave a little wave. Hitoshi, still feeling supremely uncomfortable, nodded slightly. Neither of the hero students seemed to find this odd, and simply smiled cheerfully back.

"Guys, this is Mina Ashido and Eijirou Kirishima, and Tsuyu Asui," Midoriya finished as a girl with enormous eyes and her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth joined their little group.

"Call me Tsu," she instructed politely.

"They're-" Midoriya paused, as though unsure how to name the relationship between himself and the hero students. At last he settled on, "They've been very nice to me."

"Neat goggles," Hatsume said, looking interestedly at the pair of almost frog-like goggles atop Asui's head. She did not seem to be at all wary of the hero students, but Hitoshi still felt they were being far too casual about this whole thing.

The red haired boy -- Kirishima -- turned to him. "You should be proud of your friend," he said, showing off his teeth in a bright, if slightly intimidating smile. "He was super brave."

"He stayed to help us, and he probably got all of us out of there alive," Ashido chimed in, with what Hitoshi would almost consider appropriate sheepishness.

"It was really impressive, ribbit," said Asui, doing nothing to decrease Hitoshi's impression of a frog.

Hitoshi took a deep, careful breath. He still didn't quite like the way the hero students were in such good spirits after a near-death experience, especially one from which not everyone had come away unscathed. Still, they at least seemed to appreciate Midoriya, and acknowledge how impressive Hitoshi's friend really was. If they had been willing to sweep his injury and his contributions under the rug, Hitoshi didn't think he could have avoided taking a swing at one of them.

At last Hitoshi put his hands in his pockets, trying to let the hand Midoriya still had gripped around his arm feel him relax a little. "Doesn't surprise me," he said, as nonchalantly as possible. "Mido's just like that."

"Am not," said Midoriya quietly, his head ducked down.

"Are to," said Hitoshi, and was gratified to hear Hatsume's voice in chorus with his own. Midoriya blushed but said nothing.

Ashido smiled benevolently at Midoriya, catching his eye deliberately when he risked a peek upwards. "You sure you don't want someone to walk you home sweetie?" she asked, and Hitoshi was surprised to find she didn't sound mocking at all. The offer was, apparently, genuine.

"I can walk Mido home," Hitoshi said before Midoriya could answer. He'd intended to do so anyway, and had texted his mom to make sure she knew he'd be late.

Kirishima looked worried. "But a hero student should-" he began, but unexpectedly it was Midoriya who interrupted him.

"Shinchan's going to be a hero student!" Midoriya insisted, eyes bright and eager as he talked about Hitoshi. "He's going to get in through the sports festival! He's really skilled, and his quirk is-"

"Mido!" Hitoshi hissed, and Midoriya stopped talking. Hitoshi wasn't sure what expression Midoriya was wearing, as he himself was looking determinedly at the ground. His cheeks felt hot. He couldn't remember being talked up to someone important like that by anyone, ever. It felt good, but also mortifying.

There was a pause, and then a hand clapped against Hitoshi's shoulder. "We'll leave it to you then!" Kirishima said, making Hitoshi look up into his grinning face. Like with Ashido, there was no trace of mocking, only genuine trust and confidence.

Kirishima squeezed Hitoshi's shoulder once, then turned and led the way back inside. Asui followed without comment, and Ashido gave a little wave before going too. Hitoshi stared after them, dumbfounded. Nothing about that encounter had gone as he would have predicted.

"Hero students are nothing like I imagined," he said, once he, Midoriya and Hatsume were alone. "Tell me about it," Midoriya sighed.

Everyone had the next day off. Even though only one class of hero students had technically been caught in the attack, both hero classes as well as the Support, Business and Gen Ed courses were all given time to recover from the shock. On Wednesday though it was back to school, and Izuku met Shinsou at the gate on their way to their normal classroom at their normal time. Apart from the communication that there would be a rest day, Izuku hadn't heard anything from the administration about the results of his test.

"If they don't let you into the Support Course after that, sue them," Shinsou said menacingly as they made their way through the halls.

"To be fair, I didn't give a lot of performance notes," Izuku defended. He didn't even know what the verdict would be yet, but he was already prepared for the worst.

"They wanted you to prove yourself," Shinsou argued, "you've proved yourself a whole hell of a lot more than they could have asked for. If they deny you on a technicality I'll fight Principal Nezu myself."

"Please don't say things like that," Izuku moaned as they reached the classroom.

As soon as they were inside, Izuku found another hall pass being waved in his face. "Midoriya, you're wanted in the principal's office again," said their teacher as Izuku took the piece of paper from him. "Bring your things."

Izuku didn't know what 'bring your things' meant in terms of his transfer, but Shinsou sent him a conspiratorial grin, so he decided to take it as a good sign.

The door to Principal Nezu's office was as big and imposing as ever. Izuku took a deep breath before raising a hand to push it open, but just like last time it opened for him, without his even needing to touch it. Izuku looked in wonderment at the scene beyond, not daring to set foot inside just yet. In the office was not only Nezu, sitting in the same chair where he'd been seated last time, but also Eraserhead and Present Mic standing to either side of him. They were all looking at Izuku with friendly expressions: Nezu smug contentedness, Eraser subdued benevolence, and Mic enthusiastic excitement. Izuku nearly walked inside without taking in the rest of the room, but before he could cross the threshold he saw that there were two chairs across from Nezu instead of one like last time.

One of the chairs was empty. Sitting in the other was Kacchan.

As soon as Kacchan's eyes lit on Izuku they filled with white hot rage.

"Damn nerd, I'll kill ya!" he shouted, leaping out of his seat with hands popping like sparklers, but

before he could take a single step suddenly strips of white cloth were wrapping around him, binding him to his chair.

"I'd be quiet if I were you," Eraser said ominously, eyes red as he glared at Kacchan. "You're in enough trouble already."

Kacchan growled, but his quirk was useless under Eraserhead's gaze, and eventually he slouched into the chair and was released. He turned away from Izuku to face Principal Nezu, murderous rage apparently quelled.

"What's he doing here?" Kacchan spat. "He's got nothing to do with my 'attitude' or whatever excuse you're finding to get me in trouble."

"Midoriya, please come in and sit down," Nezu said, beckoning Izuku inside with one paw.

"Uh," Izuku hesitated. "I can come back?"

"No, this meeting is about you," said Nezu, still smiling placidly at him.

"You're not the one in trouble, 'lil listener!" said Mic jovially, flashing a thousand watt smile that made Izuku feel just a little bit calmer.

On shaky legs Izuku made his way inside, closing the door behind himself. He sat in the chair beside Kacchan, trying not to look at the other boy, or feel the way his eyes were burning a hole in the side of his head.

"Now, I'm sure you've been awaiting the results of your Support Course Entrance Exam with baited breath!" Nezu said brightly.

"Yes sir," Izuku admitted. It had seemed so natural to speak firmly and clearly when he was in the control room. Here it sounded like his voice was ready to shatter at any moment.

"I'm pleased to inform you that you passed!" Nezu chirped. "You will, if you so desire, be immediately transferred to the Support Course. Power Loader is very eager to have an analyst in his class; it's been a few years since our last one, and she's gone on to a very promising career as a performance analyst working directly for the hero public safety commission."

Izuku's eyes went wide. A performance analyst? He'd never heard of the position, but it sounded like just the kind of thing he was good at. Analyzing heroes was something he was confident in, something he'd practiced. If he could just-

"However," Nezu's voice cut through Izuku's thoughts, "I would like to offer you the chance at an alternative."

"An alternative?" Izuku asked blanky. He had no idea what kind of alternative could be better than something like that.

"Indeed," Nezu said, and there was a strange quality to his voice that made Izuku's heartbeat quicken, as though danger were present. "I want to offer you the chance to join the Hero Course."

Izuku blinked. He had to have misheard that. "What?" he asked blankly.

Nezu's smile widened. "I told you when last we spoke that I had been hearing about you nonstop from several people I respect," he explained. "I was hearing not only about your intelligence, but your physical abilities, your combat capabilities, and your strategic mind. I must say, I was

impressed with you long before I saw the videos from the USJ attack." "You were?" Izuku asked, his head reeling, his heart threatening to burst.

"I was," Nezu confirmed. "In fact I was so impressed that I had already begun to consider this option before I ever sent you to the USJ. It was only your lack of enthusiasm that held me back, but I would be a fool not to at least offer someone with your potential a chance at the Hero Course."

"But I don't have a quirk!" Izuku protested, the only thought that would stay together in his head. He couldn't be a hero if he didn't have a quirk. Surely, Nezu was-

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" exploded Kacchan, abruptly reminding Izuku that he was right there beside him. "Deku can't be a hero, he's just a defenseless little weakling! He'd curl up and die if he were put in a fight against a real hero!"

"If that is your position you will be given a chance to prove it," Nezu informed him calmly.

Both Izuku and Kacchan stared at him. "What the hell?" Kacchan demanded. "I'll prove it right now, just-"

"That brings me to the issue of you, Bakugou," Nezu interrupted, and Kacchan fell silent. "I have also been hearing about you with a degree of regularity over the past few weeks. You seemed at first glance to have even more potential than Midoriya, but thus far your performance in your heroics lessons has been very poor indeed."

"Not my fault we have to hold back so much," Kacchan argued. "If you'd let me go all out I'd show you."

"It is your failure to reign yourself in adequately that is hindering you," Nezu countered, with a slight emphasis on the word 'failure' that Izuku heard Kacchan growl at. "Your refusal to follow instructions, penchant for wanton destruction, consistent brutality against other students, as well as a few other accusations-"

"That's the kind of stuff D-listers who can't cut it have to worry about!" Kacchan protested. "I'm going to be Number One, no one will notice any of that stuff about me!"

"I assure you, they will," Nezu said, and while his demeanor remained placid in the face of Kacchan's anger, Izuku could see he was getting a little tired of being interrupted.

"Yeah right," Kacchan scoffed, throwing himself against the back of his chair.

When it became clear Kacchan wasn't going to protest any further, Nezu went on. "Placed in the context of the recent attack on a UA facility, both your situations have been thrown into stark relief. Midoriya, your efforts were instrumental in repelling the attack, and for that we are grateful."

"Damn bastard didn't even fight any villains," Kacchan huffed, but for once he didn't shout. Izuku felt it prudent not to correct him, and instead focused on Nezu's words.

"Bakugou, we would never dream of disciplining a student for their behavior under such dire circumstances," Nezu said, voice strangely tight and stiff. "However, the incident has drawn attention to how some of your attitude problems can become exponentially bigger concerns when combined with real danger. I believe I have a solution."

"If you think this little weakling could ever be of any use to me or anyone you've got another

thing-" Kacchan began at a shout, but fell silent when he was interrupted.

"We will hold an official exam match," interjected Nezu, "between Midoriya and Bakugou. The winner will be admitted to the Hero Course, and the loser will become a member of the Gen Ed Course."

There was silence for a moment, and Izuku took advantage of it to try and force the idea through his brain. He could get into the Hero Course. He had the chance to get into the Hero Course. To do it, he'd have to defeat Kacchan. He would have to fight Kacchan, and win. If he won, and that was a big if, it would ruin Kacchan's chances of becoming a hero, or at least set them back significantly. He would be standing in the way of a future hero, a truly great one at that. But then again, if what Nezu said was true, wasn't Kacchan standing in his own way?

Izuku reflexively glanced over at Kacchan, lost in his own musings and expecting to find Kacchan frozen with indignation. Instead when he turned to the other boy he found Kacchan looking at him, a wide, cruel smile stretching his face and narrowing his eyes. A shiver ran down Izuku's spine at that look, familiar as it was from their middle school days. It was a look that said he was in for a world of pain.

"Deal," said Kacchan, voice low and rough from shouting.

"It would be up to you Midoriya," said Nezu, before Izuku could answer. "You don't have to agree to the arrangement, and indeed you may not want to. I'm not in the habit of allowing students to jump from course to course; if you do this, you forfeit your chance at the Support Course. If you lose, you go back to Gen Ed."

Izuku stared at Nezu, at his calm, friendly smile. He was desperate for a hint at what he should do, but Nezu betrayed nothing. Izuku looked at Eraserhead, but he was still glaring disapprovingly at Kacchan, not even paying attention to Izuku or his decision. He glanced over at Present Mic to find him smiling encouragingly, but with that same deliberateness he'd noticed during their discussion at the gym, and Izuku couldn't pick apart what it meant.

"What's the matter, Deku?" asked Kacchan meanly. "Scared?"

Of course he was scared. This had to be the biggest decision of his life, something that would alter his future forever. He was supposed to make it right now? He thought of what everyone had said about him over the last week, about how good his analysis was, about how useful it would be to heroes if he became a professional analyst. He thought about why he had started his analysis, how badly he'd wanted to be a hero for so long. He thought about how it had felt when the doctor had told him he would never have a quirk, and how his mother had held him and cried when he'd said he would still be a hero.

Izuku stood up from his chair, and bent stiffly at the waist in a formal bow.

"Principal Nezu," Izuku said slowly. "Thank you very much for this opportunity. I agree to the exam match as a means of testing whether I'm worthy of the Hero Course. I promise to do my best."

He looked up, to find Nezu smiling a wide, nearly manic smile. "Excellent."

"So when's the match going to be?" Shinsou asked as they did their warm-up stretches.

"End of next week," Izuku said, voice strained as he leaned into a particularly hard stretch. His muscles were extremely tense today. "We'll do that instead of the heroics lesson next Friday."

"Less than two weeks to prepare," Shinsou said grimly. "That's not much time."

"It'll have to be enough," Izuku said, trying to swallow his anxiety. "Everything's riding on this, I can't afford to lose."

"I'm just glad you finally believe in yourself," Shinsou said with a slight laugh.

Izuku turned to him, mid-stretch. "What do you mean?" he asked. "I hadn't even been considering trying for the Hero Course before now-"

"Exactly," Shinsou interrupted. He stood up from his stretch and looked at Izuku, his gaze warm and fond. "Before this you didn't even think you could try to be a hero. I'm glad you're finally ready to fight for your dream."

"But, the Support Course-" Izuku began, also straightening, but before he could finish Shinsou was shaking his head.

"That was never what you wanted," he said, "not really. You were settling. I'm glad you're not willing to settle anymore."

Izuku smiled, feeling tears prickling at his eyes. He hadn't needed to tell Shinsou how badly he'd wanted to be a hero, Shinsou had seen. He'd noticed, and what was more he'd cared enough to notice. He was willing to support Izuku in chasing that dream, and Izuku was suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude to have such a friend.

"Thank you, Shinchan," Izuku said, voice quavering with barely suppressed emotion. He didn't want to start crying right now.

Shinsou shrugged. "Not that big a deal."

Izuku opened his mouth to say that it was a big deal, to tell Shinsou how much he appreciated him, when suddenly the door to the gym burst open. Shinsou and Izuku turned, to see a whole crowd of people flooding in. It took him a second to register who they were, but then he realized they were all members of class 1A. In fact, it was most of class 1A.

"Midoriya!" called Uraraka from the front, waving as she led the parade of students into the gym. "Fancy meeting you here!"

"Uraraka!" Izuku called back. "You're looking much better today! Did you guys want to use this gym? We can move-"

"No silly!" Uraraka said, grinning from ear to ear. "We're here to help you train!"

Izuku stared at her, mouth open. "What?"

"We all discussed it as a class," said Iida, stepping forward and adjusting his glasses. "We decided its simply unfair that Bakugou has had weeks of hero training and you haven't, and yet you will be expected to compete as equals. You would be at a decided disadvantage going in, so we're here to help you prepare."

"We're going to give you a crash course in heroics," Kaminari said with a grin. "Everything we've learned since the beginning of the year."

"Of course it would also be unfair for us to help you train while Bakugou trained alone," Iida said, making an odd chopping motion with his hand, "so Yaoyorozu and Kirishima have kindly offered to train with him while the rest of us train you. I believe this distribution of resources will result in as equal a competition as possible."

"Are you serious?" Izuku asks, his voice high and fragile as his heart swelled with emotion. "You'd really do that for me?"

"Of course!" Uraraka said brightly, giving Izuku a thumbs up. "After what you did for us, it's the least we can do!"

Izuku felt that he had done pretty well to get through the entire USJ incident without crying in front of any heroes or hero students. This gesture, however, completely obliterated his control. Tears immediately spilled from his eyes, pouring down his cheeks in a tide his rapid blinking couldn't possibly stem. He wiped at the rivulets with his bare wrist, then lifted the neck of his shirt and buried his face in it.

Once he felt confident enough to speak, he emerged from the safety of his shirt to look at the collection of hero students. "Thank you," he said, voice high and tinny as he tried to keep control of himself. "Every single one of you has been so kind to me. I don't know how I could ever repay any of you."

Uraraka stepped forward and placed her hand on Izuku's shoulder. Then suddenly her face, previously open and friendly, radiating warmth and optimism, took on a deadly serious expression. It was as though a shadow passed over her, and beneath its darkness she looked as terrifying as any villain.

"Just beat that little punk," she said, voice a low growl, then suddenly her bright, happy smile was back. "OK?"

Izuku swallowed. "OK."

Eijirou really didn't blame Yaoyorozu for backing out.

When the class decided to help Midoriya train, Iida had agonized over what they could do to make the competition most fair. The rest of the class didn't seem to particularly care what was fair, beyond what they told Yamada-sensei to get him to look in the computer system and find out where Midoriya was training. Iida, however, had worked himself into a lather over it, so Yaoyorozu had suggested that if one of the class representatives trained with Bakugou and one with Midoriya then it would be as fair as it could be.

"An excellent notion Class President!" Iida praised, hands waving in jerky emphasis. "Just the kind of clever thinking I would expect from our class's elected leader! Of course if you would prefer to train with Midoriya I will dutifully train with Bakugou-"

"No no," Yaoyorozu smiled beatifically, "please Iida, I know you didn't get much chance to talk to Midoriya that day, and it was something you wanted to do. You go with the group that's going to train Midoriya, and I'll help Bakugou prepare."

"You're too kind!" Iida said emphatically. "I will lead the group that is to train with Midoriya to the best of my ability! Now, who would like to come with me?"

The answer to that question seemed to be the whole class, which presented a new problem for the

meticulous Iida.

"We can't all train with Midoriya!" Iida protested as the rest of the class all nodded their agreement to each other. "It wouldn't be fair!"

"Its not very fair that Bakugou has the Class President to train him but Midoriya has the Vice President," pointed out Ashido reasonably.

Iida immediately leaned his head against the wall in shame. "You're right," he said, in an anguished voice. "At the end of the day, I am only the Vice President. It wouldn't be fair to Midoriya. I will train with Bakugou-"

"No no!" Yaoyorozu piped up again, smile taking on a strained quality. "I think if Midoriya has more people to train him then it balances out pretty well actually!"

"I'll go with Yaoyrozu!" Mineta volunteered eagerly, but was immediately overruled by the other girls and quickly disappeared into the crowd with Tsu's tongue wrapped around his waist.

Iida still looked torn, so Eijirou raised a hand. "I'll train with Bakugou," he said cheerfully. "Between me and Yaoyorozu I think we'll do pretty well, and the rest of you can help Midoriya."

After a bit more consideration Iida deemed this an acceptable solution, and the class took off to the gym where Midoriya and his friend from Gen Ed were training. Mineta was nowhere to be seen, so Eijirou assumed it would just be him and Yaoyorozu, but rather than pulling out her gym clothes she began putting away her things as soon as the rest of the class had left.

"Aren't we going to help Bakugou?" Eijirou asked as she shouldered her bag and stood up from her desk.

"You can if you want," Yaoyorozu said, in a bored tone of voice. "I'm going home." "But we told Iida . . ." Eijirou trailed off as Yaoyorozu gave him a condescending look.

"I just said that so Iida would feel better about going to help Midoriya," she said disdainfully. "Do you think Bakugou would really thank us even if we did offer to help him train? He'd probably blow us up as soon as talk to us, let alone let us help."

"Still, it doesn't seem very manly to give him no support at all," Eijirou protested, but even as he said it he couldn't help thinking that she was right.

Yaoyorozu rolled her eyes. "Like I said, go if you want."

Bakugou was already long gone by the time the others left, and Yamada-sensei had also vanished, so there was no one Eijirou could ask which gym Bakugou was training at. He decided to leave it for today and try tomorrow, but the next day he got so caught up in the excitement of everyone talking about Midoriya's progress that Bakugou slipped away again. This time he was able to ask Yamada-sensei to check which gym he was in, but apparently Bakugou wasn't in a gym, or at least not yet, and then Yamada-sensei had to leave.

The next day was Friday, and Eijirou was determined to join in Bakugou's training today. He tried to talk to him a few times throughout classes, but was always ignored, and by day's end he'd realized he would have to be sneaky about this. When Bakugou left the classroom ahead of everyone else, this time Eijirou was only a few yards behind him. He followed Bakugou not to a gym, but to one of the fake sections of city that they used for urban combat training, and he could hear the explosions before he even entered the building where Bakugou was training on the roof.

"Hey bro!" he called, standing prudently by the rooftop door instead of walking immediately up to Bakugou. "How's it hanging?"

"Get lost Shitty Hair!" Bakugou snapped, without even turning around. He had a pile of rocks next to him, and as Eijirou watched he picked one up and threw it off the roof, putting a little of his quirk behind it as he did so. It sailed high in the air, coming down somewhere close to the outer wall.

Eijirou looked dubiously at the pile. "You know you won't be allowed to bring anything into the arena, right?" he said. "Midoriya told the others Nezu forbid support items."

"I don't need a support item to make rubble," Bakugou growled, picking up another rock, "and I sure as hell don't need any help to beat Deku."

"I just figured you might want a training buddy," Eijirou suggested carefully. You had to be gentle with Bakugou, as with all live explosives.

"I don't need your help!" Bakugou snarled, whirling around and throwing the rock in his hand at Eijirou. Eijirou hardened just in time; this throw had even more explosive power behind it than the last, and the rock shattered into dust as it hit Eijirou's unbreakable skin.

"Watch it!" Eijirou said waspishly. "You could really hurt someone like that you know!"

Bakugou scoffed and turned his back on Eijirou once more. "That's the fucking point, hair for brains."

"I'm just trying to help!" Eijirou snapped, then stopped and took a deep breath. He wouldn't get anywhere by shouting. "Look, the entire rest of the class is helping Midoriya, I just figured it'd be a little more fair if you had someone to train with too."

Bakugou picked up another rock and hucked it, screaming "Die!" as he did so and putting still more of his quirk behind the throw. This time the rock made it all the way to the outer wall, but bounced off the inside instead of going over.

As Eijirou watched the rock fall, Bakugou began to speak. "Deku can have as many unfair advantages as he wants," he spat. "He can train however he wants, wherever he wants, with whoever he wants. It won't make any difference. He's a weakling, a nobody, a pebble in my path to greatness. I'll beat him no matter what he does, and I'll do it by myself!"

Eijirou considered this for a moment. He could stay, he supposed. He could stand there arguing until he was blue in the face. He could try and get Bakugou to see the merits of training with others, how much of an advantage Midoriya had and how much of an edge he was turning away. He could just attack Bakugou, like Bakugou had attacked him, and try and force him into a sparring match that way.

Or he could not do any of that.

Instead he turned and headed back down the stairs, then out of the training grounds and back to the main campus. He walked halfway across school grounds to the isolated gym the others had mentioned Midoriya using, noteworthy only for how little it was used by anyone else. He swiped his ID card to get in and walked into the main floor, where the rest of class 1A was shouting and cheering. For a moment he stood in the doorway watching, the door propped open by his shoulder.

Jirou noticed him first, quieting when she saw him standing in the doorway. Beside her Kaminari turned when he heard her fall silent, and he too stopped shouting when he noticed Eijirou. Silence

overtook the class in a slow wave, finally reaching the place on the training mat where Midoriya and Sero were squaring off.

Midoriya looked over only when Sero had already taken his attention off the match. "Kirishima?" he asked tentatively, looking confused. It was clear that the others had told him where Eijirou and Yaoyorozu were supposed to be.

Eijirou sighed. "Got room for one more at Midoriya's training?" he asked wearily.

The room remained quiet for a moment, then from the other side of the training mat Uraraka jumped a little higher than should be possible, hovering in the air to be seen above the others.

"Of course!" she said excitedly. "You want the next spar?"

Eijirou gave a tired little smile. "Sure," he said, and came further into the room, letting the door fall closed behind him.

The hero students were as good as their word, and a week and two days passed quicker than Izuku would have thought possible. He would go to class in the Gen Ed course, paying attention as best he could while his mind was on the other side of campus. Then, when the school day was over, he would meet his friends -- and he did think he could call them friends now -- at their usual gym for his specially formulated workout routine. It was altered somewhat to incorporate their advice, the things they'd learned about improving certain skills in their heroics class. Much of it was things Izuku had figured out himself, but there were a few ideas that came only with experience, and each time one of class 1A mentioned something he hadn't considered they seemed to glow with pride.

"You're pretty clever about training Midoriya," said Hagakure as he scribbled down notes, mentally making room in his routine for the new information. "It's no wonder you've come so far on your own."

"I just analyzed the moves that were most common in the fighting styles I want to emulate and determined what skills are necessary to pull them off," he said distractedly. "It's not hard to isolate the muscles groups you need, and flexibility training is pretty easy as long as you do it consistently. Beyond that, specialty skills just require repetition and persistence."

Hagakure giggled, and Izuku realized he'd been mumbling. He was about to apologize, but he remembered what Hatsume had said about it not being as creepy as he'd thought, so he swallowed it and returned what he assumed was her smile.

The hero students weren't the only ones helping him train. Shinsou was there every day, listening dutifully to the hero students' input and doing the modified routine alongside him. Izuku felt good that Shinsou was able to benefit from all this attention as well, and he knew Shinsou was happy for the help. He had been a little worried that Shinsou would be uncomfortable with all the hero students around, but Shinsou assured him that this would be good for both of them, and when Izuku thanked him for his help he smiled so brightly it banished all Izuku's fears. He did sometimes

catch his friend shooting strange, unfriendly looks at Uraraka when he didn't think anyone was looking, but then Shinsou would look at him with that beautiful smile again and Izuku would get a strange feeling in his stomach that derailed his thoughts entirely.

Hatsume also stopped by training a few times. On Izuku's advice she had taken to carrying a notebook as well, to jot down stray ideas, and she used it to take notes as she watched him spar. She had been particularly disappointed to find out he was not allowed to bring support items into

this match, but her good spirits had quickly returned with whatever idea had her taking such fervent notes.

"What are you writing down?" Izuku asked the first time he'd finished a bout to find her scribbling madly in her notebook.

"You'll see," she replied, with her trademark manic grin.

"I can't even have a hint?" Izuku wheedled playfully. It was getting easier to be playful with his friends these days.

"When you get into the Hero Course, I'll show you what I'm working on," she said cryptically, and would say no more than that.

They decided early on that the hero students would use their quirks during practice bouts. There was no point in them holding back; Kacchan certainly would not. It was good practice in outmaneuvering his opponents, and with each victory he felt less like it was luck and more like he'd been genuinely clever. Still, he had to prepare specifically for a fight with Kacchan, and he already knew all about Kacchan's quirk. The trick was learning to fight against it, which was easier said than done. None of them had quirks quite as flashy as Kacchan's, but Kaminari's made getting close to his hands equally unwise and Ashido had a similar range.

The person with the closest quirk to Kacchan's was Todoroki, but he mostly hung back. At first Izuku thought the others might have forced him to come, and he didn't really want to be there, but then he noticed how closely Todoroki was observing, and the frustrated look on his normally stoic face. Clearly Todoroki was interested. Izuku just wasn't sure in what. Again Izuku noticed Shinsou giving sidelong looks, at Todoroki this time, but he said nothing about Todoroki's odd behavior and Todoroki seemed content not to speak either.

Izuku was so caught up in training, in making sure everyone knew he appreciated their efforts, in focusing on how he was going to approach the fight, that for a while he almost forgot to be nervous. As days passed and the match drew nearer however, the enormity of what he was about to do somehow became more real. A tightness settled around his chest like a steel band, making it more and more difficult to breathe easily, and it only grew more vice-like when he was alone. In quiet moments, when everyone else had gone, he sometimes felt so oxygen starved the room would start to spin.

It was during one of those quiet moments that he broke down. It was Thursday, the day before the match, and Izuku was the last out of the gym. He'd gotten that dizzy feeling as the other boys were changing out of their gym clothes, and he'd had to take a minute to himself before he could follow suit. They were all gone by the time he stepped out of the changing room, but instead of his schoolmates he found a teacher waiting for him outside.

"How's it hangin' 'lil listener!" Present Mic greeted, beaming down at Izuku. "Seems like you've been hard at work prepping for your big debut!"

"Yeah," Izuku said wearily. "Everyone's been so great helping me, but all this training is really wearing me out."

"Better make sure you're getting enough rest," Mic warned. "Downtime is important for any hero! You'll have more time to chillax when you aren't rehearsing for a big show."

"I guess," Izuku said, trying to muster a smile for his teacher.

Mic's expression changed though, settling into something gentler, more sympathetic than his usual bright enthusiasm. "It's not just training though," he surmised. "Worrying takes a lot out of you too."

Izuku looked away, off to one side. "Is it that obvious how scared I am?" he asked in a small voice. "Anyone would be scared," Mic pointed out. "You've got a lot riding on this fight."

"I know," Izuku said, "but everyone else just seems so confident. None of them seem worried that they won't be good enough, or that something will go wrong and they'll lose everything, or-"

"They've already been admitted to the hero course," Mic reminded him. "They've had a lifetime of encouragement because of their quirks. I . . . don't imagine you've had much encouragement at all."

Izuku looked at the floor, then shook his head briefly. He did not want to look at Present Mic as he admitted that his life hadn't exactly been full of people willing to place their confidence in him.

A large, warm hand landed on Izuku's shoulder, but still he couldn't bring himself to look up. "What's on your mind 'lil listener?" Mic asked softly.

"I just-" Izuku began, and suddenly there they were, the tears he'd been suppressing for days now, flowing from his eyes to drip down his cheeks and onto the tile floor. He dashed at them with both hands and went on. "It's a lot, you know? Everyone has so much faith in me, and its new, and it feels good , and I don't want it to go away! I just don't want to let everyone down."

"You won't let us down 'lil listener," Mic insisted, and then suddenly he was right there , kneeling in front of Izuku and knocking his hands away from his face, cupping his cheeks and wiping at the tears with both thumbs. "You couldn't possibly let us down, after everything you've already accomplished."

"But what if I do!" Izuku sobbed, looking up at last into Mic's concerned face. "What if I can't do it? The more I think about it the more I don't think I can, and-"

"You can do it," Mic cut him off. He didn't speak loudly, but his voice was firm, solid as steel, like he was as sure as stone of his conclusion.

"How do you know?" Izuku asked desperately. He felt strangely untethered from his body, but Mic's thumbs stroking the skin beneath his eyes lessened the feeling.

"I wouldn't have recommended the match if I didn't believe you could do it," Mic said, smiling down at Izuku with eyes twinkling behind his shades.

Izuku sniffled. "Really?" he asked shakily.

Mic chuckled a little. "Really," he confirmed, then rested his forehead against Izuku's.

For a moment Izuku just breathed. The steady pressure of his teacher's head against his own seemed to push him down into himself, stopping his mind from carrying him away on the breeze. He could smell the leather of Mic's fingerless gloves, and hear his steady breathing. He almost thought he could feel his heartbeat through the places they were connected, but he was sure that was just his own.

"OK," he breathed, nodding a little, careful not to dislodge anything. "OK. I believe you."

"Good," said Mic softly, pulling back and giving Izuku one of his rare, genuine smiles. "For a second there I thought I was going to have to call Aizawa to knock some sense into you."

Izuku giggled wetly. "Yeah," he said, nodding in exaggerated agreement. "Let's not do that." *

Finally Friday arrived, and Izuku walked into his morning classes completely on autopilot. His mind was entirely elsewhere, in the training grounds where they would have the exam fight, and he barely registered his surroundings as he made his way to his desk. It was only when he felt someone tap him lightly on the shoulder that he was recalled to himself, and he whirled around to see one of the girls in class standing behind him. She sat two rows away, and she and Izuku had only spoken a few times, but her smile was open and friendly.

"Hey," she said, with a nervous little wave. "Midoriya, right?"

"Yeah," he replied. "I think we met on the first day of class. Fujioka, isn't it?"

"Yeah!" she said, apparently pleased to be remembered. "I, uh, just wanted to say . . . well, that is, some of us have heard . . ."

"You know about my exam fight today," Izuku guessed.

"Yeah," Fujioka sighed in relief. "Anyway, I just wanted to say good luck."

"Oh!" Izuku gaped for a moment before recovering himself. "Thank you! That's really sweet!"

"I heard you don't have a quirk," she went on. "Well, neither does my little sister. I just thought, if you win . . . well, it'd really be something to tell her, you know?"

Izuku hesitated a moment, then gave her a wide grin. "I guess I'll just have to win then!"

"That's the spirit!" said a male voice from behind Fujioka, and Izuku looked around her to see a boy he'd never even spoken to giving him a thumbs up.

There was a general murmur from all through the room, and Izuku looked around to see nearly every student in class looking at him. Some were smiling, some giving him looks of fierce determination, and a few were making fighting gestures like flexing or punching the air. None of them, however, were giving him looks of scorn, and none of them were laughing at him. Izuku looked over at Shinsou, to see him grinning wide and genuine. He looked back at the class.

"Thank you all," he said with a small bow. "I promise to do my best to live up to your expectations."

There was a round of cautious, subdued cheering, like a celebration of fragile hope, before their teacher walked in and called the class to order.