Spaghetti Dinner-

The home was full of life, as the boys were all in the kitchen doing their best to make dinner; thankfully, Eijiro was there as he seemed to know what he was doing.

"I used to have to make dinner when my parents worked late," he said with a smile. "My little sister said she liked my spaghetti better than our mom's. Hey, Izuku, was it all true?"

"It is," he said, preparing the loaves of garlic bread.

"When you first said it, it put me on edge, but then I started thinking about my little sister. And I realized that I would probably do the same thing to protect her, and I knew I couldn't judge you for it." He stirred the sauce, "If you're cool with it, I would like to be your guy's friend. I think there are many ways to be strong or show strength, and what you and Himiko have done is one of the strongest things I have ever seen. You guys shouldn't be as nice as you are, yet you have us in your house and are feeding us dinner."

"Thank You for that, Ejiro, and it would be Very cool, Ejiro, if you were to be our friend," Izuku said, and Shoto slowly and deliberately was cutting the tomatoes for the salad; he caught the other two looking at him. He just said.

"Fuyumi usually only has me cut the lettuce."

"Did you tell her you were staying for dinner?" Izuku asked, "I don't want to get in trouble with her."

"I did," he replied, continuing to perform surgery on the tomato. "She will be hosting a dinner at the dorms tomorrow night and wants you all to attend."

"We would love too!" Izuku said as he slid the bread in the oven.

-The Next Morning-

Izuku awoke with the first rays of light poking through the window; Himiko was draped across his chest, her leg tangled over one of his. He smiled at the peaceful feeling that greeted him as he awoke, the sense of peace knowing that while he may have to fight today, it wouldn't be to the death or for his family's survival. It had taken a while to settle into the peace of living in U.A., but the move to the cottage, Himiko and Midnight decorating, painting, and making it into a home had solidified it.

With peace and calm, Eri was safe and, most of all, happy. Not only was Eri happy, but Himi and he were finding happiness in their developing relationships and with each other. They had figured it out during their time in the Pit, but now, with that pressure off them, it was this rediscovery process. Making love and enjoying each other completely had been the most fantastic part of their rediscovery.

There wasn't an urgency to try and cram everything into every moment they could breathe. They didn't realize they were even holding their breath. When they finally did breathe, it was a whole new experience—knowing that an accident might happen and the certainty that came with knowing that you were fighting in the pit area were two different things. There was no day off; Izuku remembered fighting back to back with broken limbs. There was never any certainty in their previous life; whenever one of them walked out that door, there was a real fear that they might not return.

He lay in bed thinking of how different things were. Their past had been laid bare for the class, Katsuki had been removed from the Hero course, and no one was at their door attempting to lynch them. The day was new, and who knew what the afternoon might bring, but it was something, at the very least, he never understood fully; whenever their newbies were brought in, depending on their age, they would cry for home or their parents. He was so young when his mother died that all he had were vague memories; there was one instance where he had to kill his opponent.

The boy's name was Osakazu; he was a big ole kid who talked a great game and had won about eight bouts, killing or seriously injuring ¾ his opponents. That night, battered and bloodied Izuku stood over his broken opponent, the Ringmaster; like Roman Emperors of old had given the thumbs down, Osakazu started crying.

It was his begging for his mother that Izuku remembered the desperate call that if she was there, it would be okay; he had long forgotten that sense of protection and safety he had felt in his mother's arms. Now, here on a blood-soaked dirt arena, he was being reminded of that as he was about to rob someone of that opportunity. Izuku didn't even know if it was possible. He could have spared him, but it would have meant both of their deaths, and Izuku knew he didn't want to die. At the time, he wasn't sure why he wanted to live. So Izuku killed him, and Osakazu's voice would still come to him on stormy nights. He wasn't lying to Ojiro; he knew all their names and faces.

Osakazu, 14, 6'2, Black hair and eyes. His face was slightly rounded, still showing baby fat, the small scar on his left temple, three black moles in a triangle pattern on his right cheek, scar under his chin.

He knew that sleep wouldn't come to him and that seeking it was useless. Instead, he slipped out, meaning he told Himi he would cook, and she nodded, snuggling under the blankets. He showered, dressed, and walked into the kitchen, looking at a video on how to make an omelet. It turned into a scramble in the end, but he tried fried potatoes, a salad, and toast. With a devilish grin, he sent Eri to pounce on Mommy.

Eri had a level of stealth that an elephant would be envious of due to their muffled giggles and Himi immediately waking up when the door opened, but being a good Mommy, she knew the game. Right when Eri was about to pounce, the dreaded blanket monster made its attack. His daughter's peals of laughter with Himiko monster noises just reinforced: HOME.

For the happy thoughts, the dark thoughts of the morning were not gone. He wondered if Eri had called and cried for Himi and him when Overhaul had taken her to do what he did. All he could do was promise that if she was ever in that position again, he better be dead, or someone was about to be killed regardless of the rules.

Eri pulled him from his dark thoughts as she ran into the kitchen and hid behind his legs, telling him about the return of the blanket monster; with feigned shock, he told her to stay and guard breakfast while he went into battle. Through a closed door, mock sounds of battle but more the two parents making out, he emerged victorious. His second reward was kisses and hugs from Eri, a good battle all the way around.

Like the day before, some of their classmates came to the door to walk with them to class; Eri grabbed Shoto's hand again, dragging him off with her to her daycare, Izuku smiling as he followed. Once again, the great debate was renewed almost immediately with Eri bound and determined to bring Shoto over to the side of pancakes. Once the two young men were on their way to class, Shoto smiled. "She is very stubborn."

"I don't know what you are talking about, and nothing you can say will change my mind on the subject," Izuku responded quickly. Shoto opened his mouth to retort but immediately stopped and laughed. It wasn't a sound that Izuku had heard from the boy; he was very quiet and what would be called reserved. But Eri seemed to be his kryptonite, as she was for most people.

The duo walked into class a few minutes before the bell; he noticed some of the looks they were being given; it seemed the boys in the class still hadn't made up their minds, but girls had rallied around Himiko; they were even talking about a sleepover.

Himiko was a smiling flower amid all the girls, at the center, not on the fringe, not being held at arm's distance, but being part of the circle.

Class began, and with it came a slight nervous energy. The empty seat in the class was part of that, but as was the fact that today would be their first Heroic Class ever. No one had talked about it, trying to keep it casual when bringing it up.

"Hey, isn't our first heroic class tomorrow?" Person A would say.

"Um… yeah, I think so. Honestly, I don't know," Person B would respond.

They both knew, they all knew, it had been circled on the calendar since it had been announced. Sadly, the Midoriya had provided an unplanned distraction, but now, with the day upon them, nothing would distract them from that moment.

Aizawa walked in as the bell rang, taking his customary spot at the front of the class.

"Alright, class, as I am sure all of you are aware, today is going to be your very first heroic class," he paused as the kids cheered. "But that will not be till after lunch, so I need you all to focus on today's classes, as the referenced information will be important going forward." He looked over his students before his gaze fell on the empty chair.

"As I told you yesterday, Mr. Bakugo has been expelled. His seat shall remain vacant for now, but it will be filled. He crossed a line that cannot and will not be tolerated. Despite whatever notions you have in your head, all of you are here to be heroes. Your reasons, your motivations, and your desires to do so are all different. But you have all decided to go into a career choice where you will be asked to put your life on the line nearly every day. You will be asked to put your life in the hands of those next to you and those you have only heard of. That empty seat will be filled; someone will step up and show the desire and will to follow the same basic dream you all have." He paused and started walking down the rows of the class.

"It will be the same thing that is asked of you when a hero falls; you will be asked to step forward to fill that need. To carry on that dream your fallen brother or sister left behind. Make no mistake about what I said: should you graduate and become a pro hero, you will become part of a fraternity in that you all share the same basic dream to be a hero. Your methods will be as different as you imagine; a torch was lit since the first hero stepped onto the scene. A torch that has fallen only to be picked up by another, and another to today." The class could hear the passion in their teacher's voice, the passion with which he spoke.

"A torch you will pick up and carry farther into the future, a fire that the fates willing you choose to one day put down yourself; that another take from your hand, move it further into the mythical day called Tomorrow. So today, when you put on those costumes for the first time and step onto the training grounds, you are doing so not just with your classmates but your family, your brothers, and sisters in arms and in a dream." He stood in front of his class once again.

"Families fight, siblings fight, you don't even have to like them, but remember that they are willing to lay their lives on the line to save others, to protect those that cannot protect themselves. You will bleed for each other, cry with each other, and die for each other. So do what you need to do, solve whatever problems you need to solve, but get it SOLVED!" he could see the resolve springing to life in their lives, students looking at each other, even some not looking at each other. "Now that you are ready to run through a brick wall, enjoy Heroic Law!"

It warmed his heart to hear them start to cheer, only for it to turn into a groan as he walked out of the class; they could hear his laugh fading down the hall.

Professor Phoenix taught heroic Law; he was a spirited, passionate, practicing lawyer. Unlike most lawyers, what made him unique was that he had been both a dominant prosecutor and was now a renowned defense lawyer. His shift in position was tied to his quirk; when he died, he would be reborn with a subtle shift in his personality. He was rather old but looked young; it was this lovely example of how strange quirks could be.

This class was straight ahead, right wrong, black or white for some. It suited some of the class.

Heroic Theory, on the other hand, was anything but. Professor Kwannon, or the pro hero Psi-Blade, was also a unique teacher; she had been a young up-and-coming hero in her home country of the United Kingdom; she was Japanese by birth but had lived in the UK her whole life. She was BEAUTIFUL, 5'11, Black hair, Purple Eyes, and a stunning figure. When she walked in, they noticed that she looked at Momo and smiled; some noticed a resemblance between the two.

That was all fine and dandy, but what made her such a unique case was that she was an up-and-coming hero in the U.K., rising through the ranks like a rocket; her beauty, quirk, and attitude was the blending of greatness; then, it all came crashing down. She had gone rogue, a criminal, killing a member of the royal family and a cabinet member. What followed was a 5-year hunt for the former hero who was not laying low; instead, she was all over the kingdom, committing more crimes. She rose to the most wanted criminal in the U.K.; then she surrendered on national television with a video exposing a level of corruption and vile that rocked the Nation. It was still recovering. She went to jail for five years and then was released and reinstated as a hero, only to leave the U.K. and come home to Japan. She was a hero; she was ranked in the top 20 and peaked in the top 5 at one point before stepping back to teach.

Her class was the shades of gray that heroes had to deal with, how there was no correct answer, that it was more than just a broken law, and this is the punishment. This was a decisive topic, with people taking sides in the scenario she had presented. Those splintering into other sides with the class all separated, trying to persuade the others to their side. For some, it was immediately centered on their favorite class.

The History of Heroics entered the room, and Fumi immediately developed his first man crush; the man entered in a floor-length black cloak that, when it opened, he was wearing Western Medieval armor, black trimmed in a dark grey, except a brilliant silver lance on his chest. His armor made no noise, and when the hood came down, some girls were smitten. He was European, with black hair and storm-grey eyes; his features seemed to be chiseled out of stone, and when he spoke, his voice had this enchanting tone that drew the class in.

Professor Shealonis, the international Hero: The Black Knight, was on the tiny list of a handful of heroes the global government licensed. He could arrest every continent on the planet. No one knew his home country; no one even knew where he was born. He wasn't ranked in popularity polls, with most of what was believed to be his cases never being reported to the public. The class was over before they knew it, much to their dismay.

With the bell signaling the call for lunch, it put Heroic class only one hour away.

"Momo, do you know Professor Kwannon?" Mina asked as they stood in line.

Momo smiled and blushed slightly, "Yes, she is my cousin."

"She is cool!" Toru added. "Do you think you can introduce us?"

"I would love too!" Momo couldn't stop smiling.

The class all took their seats and wondered who would be their heroic teacher. Speculation was running wild, but Izuku noticed that Itsuka was strangely quiet.

"You know something, don't you?" she jumped a little while in a cheesy daydream about a date with Izuku.

"No, why do you say that?" she said quickly to defend herself.

"You seem to either not care who the heroics teacher is, or you know who it is and don't care; which is it?" nudging her with his shoulder, making her blush slightly.

"I have no idea who it is; I am hyped for it no matter who it is!" she lied. Izuku raised an eyebrow at her, but instead, he just smiled.

-Heroic Class-

They all sat in their seats before the bell rang; not one of them was sitting still, though one was faking it.

"HERE I AM COMING THROUGH THE DOOR LIKE A NORMAL PERSON!" the voice bellowed from the hall.

The class erupted as the number one hero of Japan walked in. Comments of how he was in his silver age costume, pinch for they had to be dreaming, stunned silence, absolute bliss, and one girl rolling her eyes. If you all knew him like I know him, you wouldn't be reacting this way; he is a dork and so damn awkward. Itsuka did smile, though, seeing that Himiko was impressed to see the hero. They didn't react like the rest of the class, though they were impressed.

"ALL RIGHT, MY FUTURE FELLOW HEROES, TODAY IS THE FIRST DAY ON YOUR JOURNEY TO BECOME PRO HEROES RIGHT ALONGSIDE ME," HE PAUSED AS THEY CHEERED. "BUT YOU CAN'T BEGIN YOUR JOURNEY DRESSED LIKE THAT!" He pulled a small remote from his hand. The far wall slid open with a single press, revealing shining briefcases. "INSIDE, YOU WILL FIND THE HERO COSTUMES THAT YOU SUBMITTED WITH YOUR ENROLLMENT PAPERWORK; THEY HAVE ALL BEEN APPROVED, REVIEWED, AND LOOKED OVER BY YOUR VERY OWN SUPPORT COURSE, AS WELL AS SOME OF THE FACULTY." He paused, making all of them hesitate.

"SOME OF YOUR DESIGNS, SHALL WE SAY, NEEDED HELP; THERE WERE GLARING FLAWS, AND THOSE HAVE BEEN ADDRESSED. WE WILL BE HAVING A MEETING WITH THE SUPPORT COURSE TO GO OVER SOME DESIGNS AND POSSIBLE IMPROVEMENTS FOR YOUR COSTUMES AFTER TODAY. BUT THAT IS TOMORROW TODAY WE HAVE A HEROIC CLASS TO ATTEND, GET DRESSED AND MEET ME AT TRAINING GROUND THETA!"

The class ran, grabbed their cases, and left to change. Itsuka saw Izuku and Himiko pause as they placed their hand on their cases before she heard them mutter, "FOR ERI."