Izuku was used to arriving home and being hounded by his mother's worried rants and tears that could put Nachi Falls to shame. Back then, it was because he had bruises and cuts littering his body from Katsuki and his lackeys. This time, it was because a horde of news anchors and their crew broke into their school. At least this time he could prove he was physically fine to his mother. She could still fret over his mental state following the event, and he wasn't going to stop her from worrying over that, but his mind was barely passing over what he had seen. All that would replay through his head were Shoji's words.

"Stopping the zero pointer" was completely ridiculous. That thing was a towering amalgamation of metal, wires and computers that he was foolish enough just to have walked towards it. And all Izuku did was whine and wail down on its lowest front plate because he was angry, plain and simple. Angry his bat broke, angry his score was so low, and angry his attempt to protect his friends and get them safely away from the giant robot amounted to nothing but prolonging the machine from crushing them. Had the clock not run out and the machine deactivated to the buzzer, they would have been crushed. His efforts did not change a thing, that is what Izuku had told himself.

So why was Shoji confident he had hit the machine into the ground? His tallest classmate was there, present in the same testing site, there to witness Izuku's angry wails, and yet that is what he says he sees. Now, Izuku didn't want to approach his newly introduced classmates and tell him he's blind and there was no possible and conceivable way that what he saw actually happened; he could most likely twist that into something less hostile and more friendly wording to that confrontation. At the same time, that wasn't a rumor Izuku wanted floating around the school; the misconception that he had a quirk was enough to let branch out without his control.

But just like Katsuki being in his homeroom classrooms for the past decade, the thought it was right continued to pester him in the back of his mind. Why was everyone taking the lie about his quirk at face value? Why weren't they questioning him more about it? Why did Yaoyorozu trust him, and why did everyone else trust them? Was the unlikelihood of him being quirkless contributing to everyone thinking nothing of his lie, or was there some form of evidence that led people to believe it was true? How was he getting away with this?

"Izuku." The teen in question turned away from the T.V. screen playing the white noise of the news to his mother peeking out from the kitchen area. "I'm going to bed. You should do the same."

The green-haired boy nodded back. "I will," he replied, "just wanted to...relax a bit longer. Try to get my mind elsewhere." As if that was working; he'd probably been sitting on the couch for an hour since dinner and hadn't registered a single word the news anchor said. At least this man had the decency to stay behind his desk instead of breaking down doors.

His mother scuttled through the room before leaning down behind him, trapping Izuku in a quick embrace. "As long as you're alright. I'm not going to rush you. Just don't go to school with bags under your eyes."

He breathed a laugh as they parted. "I'll try not to. Thanks mom." She parted from him with a short ruffle to his hair before disappearing down the hall, leaving Izuku alone for his mind to fall into his thoughts again.

His worst offense was leaving her in the dark. Not a word made it her way that he was telling all his new friends lies, or asking his old friends to help him spread them. He didn't tell her about his new thoughts either, be them some unbelievable yet real truth or just a means of pranking him for reasons he probably didn't know but people made anyways; nothing new, if that was the case.

It was still lying to his mother, either directly or indirectly. It still made him feel like shit, but it would do no good to bother her with things that would end up meaning nothing in the end.

The ringing of the landline drew Izuku's attention away from the hero reports on the screen and the musing in his head. He scrambled off the couch to it, leaning his head down the hallway to shout, "I got it," to his mom before picking the phone off the wall. "This is the Midoriya residence."

"Oh, Izuku," an older woman's voice responded over the line. "It's been a while since I got to talk to you. I'm sorry I didn't congratulate you sooner on making it into Yuei."

Izuku took a second to recognize the voice before responding, "Thanks, Aunt Mitsuki." Despite all Katsuki had done, Izuku had yet to hold any of the responsibility on his parents. The way Masaru and Mitsuki had treated him and his mother as extended family was never a facade, and the time spent with them was one he missed dearly. The Bakugous were really the only family he and his mother had, up until the conflict between him and Katsuki came to light. "Give me a moment, I'll go get my mom."

"Actually," Mitsuki interjected before he could set the phone down, "I was hoping to talk to you. I still text your mom time to time, don't worry. Wanted to check in on you, though. I heard about what happened today."

Izuku leaned against the wall by the phone, settling down and looking away from where his mother was. "Yeah, that did. Saw what was left of the news talk about it. Thought that was funny."

"At least they're getting what they deserve. I thought us adults were supposed to respect your kids' boundaries, but I guess they'll hassle whoever they can for a money-making piece. You sure you're holding up alright, sport? I know Inko isn't going to press you as hard about it."

"Honestly, I'm fine." Izuku curled around the corner, dragging a stool closer to him to plop down on. "They were there for All-Might, not us. I only talked with one of them before classes and only ever saw them through the glass afterwards. They are the least of my problems, I promise you." Namely, the determination of his abnormalities took precedence first.

The sigh that came over the phone sounded more exasperated than Izuku was expecting to hear. "Good. That's good. And you probably do have a lot more on your plate too. But if you say you're doing okay, I'll trust you. Unless Masaru tells me to come check on you myself, then I make no promises. You'll accept my help whether you want it or not."

He smiled softly, imagining fully detailed how the two Bakugou adults acted in their helicopter mode. "Thank you. I won't complain."

"Good, because I miss seeing you two," Mitsuki admitted wistfully. "It wasn't the same, not spending the celebration of your graduation without you. Masaru and I really are proud of you making it in, too. Don't mistake us for trying to be nice; we are nice, and we'll praise you whenever we can."

The smile across Izuku's face stayed, but he didn't respond verbally. With how close his mother was with Katsuki's, the two families found tradition in celebrating the new school year, congratulating the boys on their graduation and advancement they really only shared New Years and their parents' birthdays, beside that one get together. Izuku could admit it felt weird not seeing them again for the past few months, but then Katsuki had to go and fight him after he was admitted from the hospital, so it wasn't like their separation wasn't warranted.

"Hey, kid," Mitsuki called again over the phone, her voice more hushed than before. "Can I ask you something?"

Izuku squinted silently at the change in voice. "Sure, Aunt Mistuki. What is it?"

"Is there something else between you and Katsuki I should know about?"

Izuku paused at her question, tripping over whatever words he had at the ready to process hers. "Wh...why do you ask?"

Mitsuki's heavy sigh over the phone almost led Izuku to believe the phone line cut into static, but the woman didn't waste too much time in responding. "Your class is probably going to hear about it tomorrow, but Katsuki isn't going to be there for awhile. He got expelled from your class today."

"Katsuki's expelled!?" the teenager nearly shouted back over the phone, catching his voice from jumping too loudly and himself from falling off the stool in surprise. "What? Why? When?"

"After you kids got out early. Went in to meet your principal late today and it seems my brat crossed a line and is now in the general studies classes. I know you two got hurt from your fight yesterday but I didn't think he went that far. I should have been told about this."

"Aunty, it wasn't that bad," Izuku tried to reason.

"Telling you you're useless is bad, Izuku," the woman countered. "Thinking you're going to die and demeaning you because of it isn't okay. I'm already considering sending him to a therapist; do I have to schedule one for you too?"

Izuku waved the woman's threat away physically, hands waving out to shove nothing but air away. "I don't need to see a therapist. I'm fine. His words don't mean anything to me."

"That doesn't mean he gets to say them. There's a line he crossed doing that. And now he has the next month to prove he can change if he wants to take hero classes. I need to speak with your principal again to make sure you two aren't in the same class if the brat can get his act together."

A month? Katsuki wasn't going to be in his class for a whole month, and the school expected him to turn over a new leaf in that time and not go back to class hounding Izuku for existing? The green-haired teen wasn't sure if that was setting the bar too low or too high for the blond teen. "Aunt Mitsuki, you do not need to do that—"

"The more you try to tell me no, the sooner I'll come over there and hound you myself. I don't care if it's 10 at night, I will choke hold you in a hug, alright? Katsuki's my son, so his attitude is my responsibility. Your teachers are probably going to tell you about this tomorrow, and they better. Katsuki needs to learn it isn't okay to think or tell people things like that, especially not to you."

Izuku took a sharp inhale to catch his voice from rising louder than it needed to be with his mother trying to sleep. "I'm not that frail."

There was a rustle over the line, and he could hear her muffled swear barely picked up by the phone line. "You know that's not what I meant," she responded weakly. "Hisashi deserves more respect than that." Izuku knew, and Izuku agreed. "You're going to be great, Izuku, Masaru and I both believe in you. I'm going to do my best to make sure Katsuki can do the same and doesn't fall any further."

"You don't need to tell me that," Izuku mumbled back, quietly accepting her apologies over Katsuki's words about his dad. "You didn't even have to tell me any of this; this was too personal. That's family stuff. You shouldn't have told me any of this."

"But you are family, Izuku. You and Inko both. And if my son is harassing you and telling you things like that, then you should know that we're going to do what we can to make sure that never happens again. You and your mother mean too much to us to lose by vindicating our son's violence." The older lady huffed into the phone. "If I knew it was this bad, I don't think I would have let him enroll to begin with."

Izuku could find it in himself to agree with that conclusion, but his mouth reiterated thoughts from the other corner of his mind. "If you did, he probably would have thought you were villainizing him, knowing how he thinks." Or guessing it, given Izuku had called him such during their class battle. "If Yuei thinks he can change, I hope they can get it done. I'd like to have faith in them in that."

"I do too, but I can't leave it to teachers anymore," Mitsuki insisted. "I'm sorry I didn't step in sooner, Izuku. He shouldn't have ever treated you like that and he shouldn't have even thought like that to begin with."

"You didn't know," he tried to reassure her, not knowing himself if it would do any good. "And it's not like he wanted anyone to." His eyes teetered across the room, landing on a small, framed picture facing his way with him and his parents posing beside Katsuki's and his for the photo. A decade a difference. "Thank you for at least trying now. This means a lot to me."

"As long as you're okay, that's what matters. Are you sure I don't need to come over and check you're okay myself? Masaru made extra snickerdoodles; a bit strong of a lemon taste but they're still really tasty."

Izuku smiled softly as Mitsuki tried to ease some levity into the conversation. "Thank you, but I'll be fine. I promise. But, if you could bring some for my mom one of these days, I think she'd like to see you again and hear that from you."

"I'll make sure to. Thank you for hearing me out after all Katsuki's done. You're too perfect for this world."

"It's like you said," Izuku responded, eyes glazed on the photo across the room from him. "We're family. You guys are too important to lose over something that can still be fixed. I don't know if I'll give him a chance even if he shows he can change, but I can still trust you guys. I'll at least do that."

The older woman sighed in response. "Well at least it's something. Last thing I want is to draw a line between us and you two over my son's mistakes. I'll make sure the next time you two talk, the only thing he's spilling out are apologies." There was a light chuckle from her side of the line, and Izuku returned it weakly. "I'll let you go for the night, then. I think I've held you up long enough. After the day you guys had, you should probably get some sleep more than anything."

"Yeah," Izuku nodded to himself. "I was thinking about heading to bed too. I think I've been up long enough." His fingers drummed along the wall, his tongue swirled in his mouth. "Thank you for calling. It...this means a lot to me. Thank you for caring."

"Of course we care, Izuku," Mitsuki defended. "If I could marry your mother I'd accept you like a son. I doubt Masaru would mind, you know how he likes group dinners. Now go to sleep. I don't want to hear from your mother that you crawled like a zombie to school because of me. And Izuku?" The boy paused as he hopped off his seat. "The school does want you there. They think you'll be a good hero. Show them you're the toughest shit on the block."

With her parting words of encouragement, the line cut. Izuku hung the phone back on the wall and stood, silently staring at the dim light of the landline's screen showing the late time. Ten hours from now, he'd be in a class with one less person than yesterday.

School was going to be weird, wasn't it?

"Wow," Uraraka drawled out, stepping slowly forward while her head snapped back and forth between the buildings. "This is nothing like Tokyo Station."

Kaminari stepped forward from the group to join the brunette by her side. "Station's great, but you said you were new to town, so I thought I'd start small for ya. You're gonna love Ginza, I guarantee it. I usually visit Akiba when I come here, but that's on the other side of Station. And I'll fight you there next time." The blond boy twisted his hips to point at the tail boy back with the rest of their group. "There's a Mortal Kombat setup there we'll play, but I need to practice first so it doesn't look like I'm bad at fighting games."

"There is no practice that will save you," Ojiro informed him. "You were doomed from the start, young padawan."

"I can dream, Harold."

Izuku watched his friends' playful banter with a silent smile, flanked by a humored Yaoyorozu and an exasperated Iida on either side. "I am all in understanding of friendly arguments," the blue-haired teen sighed, "but that does not mean I am against restricting their consistency to once a week, if not a month."

"I want to see how long it will take them to cover the same topic in a different argument," Izuku defended the two blond boys, jovially puffing out their chests to the amusement of a curling over brunette. "Like one day we'll get a one-to-one recreation of a previous argument they've already had. How many topics and times can they argue before the world runs out of topics for them to argue about?"

"Theoretically infinite," Yaoyorozu answered his rhetorical question. "The world will never stop creating new stories and worlds and perspectives, so as long as they stay informed on truly everything and everyone in the world, they could go on forever."

"I'll give them another week," Iida determined. "I'll interfere if this continues. For all our sake."

"For your sake," Izuku corrected him.

"Synonymous."

Izuku laughed openly to his friend's dry-delivered humor, holding onto Yaoyorozu's arm to support him from falling backwards. "Ah, God, Iida, that's the best joke you've told yet. Where have you been hiding that the past year?"

"It's how my father talks. Retirement has loosened his professionalism. He's become far more free-spirited. He's taking after my brother more than my brother takes after him."

"Your brother is Ingenium, correct?" Yaoyorozu asked for clarification. "I've heard stories about the Serious Speedster turned 'Jovial Jester' from my parents. I've always wanted to meet the Ingenium heroes in person; I take it they are all as welcoming and kind-hearted as yourself?"

If Izuku knew how to design one, he would make Yaoyorozu a medal of honor for being the first person to fluster Iida before his eyes. "I—Thank you for your kind words, Yaoyorozu. I believe my family would love to meet you all too, though I think I should warn you about my brother's antics. I don't think they are as humorous as you've been led to believe. He can be too troubling sometimes."

"I don't think humor can be that bad, Iida."

"Mother once threatened to revoke his license for making 'yo mama' jokes every altercation he had with a criminal over the span of a week. I speak with first-hand experience knowing what chaos my brother brings with him."

Izuku took to chuckling under his breath while his two taller friends carried on their conversation and following debate over the Ingenium line of heroes. The two were almost identical to Izuku, at least in their mannerisms. If the class had at least accepted his resignation and allowed the tall girl to take his place as class president, the tall boy would have made a good replacement for vice. But he had gotten over being salty about that vote, even if he still felt out of place.

He was lucky to keep his class, and that his class still saw him as an equal. While the lie eating away at the back of his head probably helped, Izuku still assumed the announcement of Katsuki's expulsion would point fingers his own way, claiming him the catalyst and scapegoat for the reasons behind the blond boy's transition to the General Studies class. But his friends must have done something because they either defended Izuku as the victim of Katsuki's assault in the Battle Trial or were sombered to see someone they thought would have been a good hero trainee by their side face what they agreed was due punishment. The worst Izuku walked away with was a short essay assignment for him alone to detail the legal, dictionary and his own personal understanding of the differences between law breakers, criminals and villains. Probably from the comment he made about Katsuki being more a villain than a criminal; those words weren't allowed to be thrown around lightly, especially not in this school.

Despite whole heartedly agreeing he wasn't the problem of the situation, Izuku still felt like he was getting away with something. He didn't know what or why he felt it, but he couldn't find it in him to celebrate the blond boy's expulsion as heartily as Ojiro did when they finally connected at lunch. While the rest of their group was hesitant to even feel relieved at Katsuki's removal, Ojiro knew enough from the stories Izuku shared with him and, with a heavy sigh and nod of Izuku's head, enlightened their friends on the subject under the louder conversations around them in the lunch hall. Suffice to say, the table went from a meal to a banquet in attitude alone before they returned to class.

With little bad blood between them, bar the disappointment Iida and Yaoyorozu expressed for not being told sooner about what bullying Izuku had shared with them, Kaminari and Uraraka's joint proposal for a weekend get-together had found agreement from every head at the table, thus leading them to their weekend at Ginza to familiarize Uraraka the most with the city she'd moved to and just to get to know each other more. And for the most part, Izuku believed it was working.

For the most part.

Reminded of the one peculiar detail holding them all back from diving down the road and bouncing between shops, Izuku fished his phone from his pocket and gave the black screen a once-over in disappointment. She was late to each and every lunch in their first week of school, it only made sense she'd be late to their first get-together outside of school.

"What's with the long face, Midoriya?" Iida's question brought the green-haired boy's attention back to his friends, staring up at the small concerned stare the blue-haired boy gave him.

"Hatsume's being Hatsume," Izuku dryly answered, shaking his phone. "Ten minutes late feels like an hour late with her. I'd be surprised if she comes at all, at this point. We should put a tracking chip on her."

"On her phone, you mean?" Yaoyorozu piped up from his other side.

"I don't know if I can trust her not to take it apart every other week for an upgrade," Izuku admitted. "I'd argue to put it in her head but I don't trust her not to short-circuit it with her brain waves. She'd manage that somehow."

The raven-haired girl hunched over with a sigh and a sweat drop. "With all this talk about her, I'm curious to know what you're still hiding for me to meet. She can't be that bad, can she?"

"She isn't bad at all," Iida defended their friend wildly, chopping Izuku on the back of the neck much to the shorter boy's annoyance. "And we never meant to insinuate such about her. It's just that Hatsume can be, well—"

"HEY METAL BAT!"

"Actually that's entirely what we meant to insinuate," Izuku told the tall girl before he turned around to nearly collide heads with a pink-haired girl launching into him.

"Sorry I'm late!" Hatsume all but shouted in Izuku's ear, hands all over his shoulders and face as he held her off the ground from her tackle. "My gravity boot prototypes took a few more test runs to get them working. I managed to get four seconds out of them this time! By this time next month I'll be on the ceiling!"

Izuku unceremoniously dropped the girl back on her feet, stumbling away from her and dusting himself off. "And yet another device of yours tries to inadvertently crack my skull open," he grumbled at her. "Do you have that written into the notes of all your projects or is the universe giving me a sign?"

"I don't have any control over your bad luck," she replied far too cheerily for his liking. "And you're no good to me in pieces. How am I going to get you to market my babies if you're split down the middle?"

"By just not and letting me rest. Simple 1-2-math."

"We can't have that, can we? Terrible marketing decision to promote material with a dead guy." Ignoring Izuku's sigh of defeat, Hatsume shot a smile Iida's way. "And don't worry, Hot Wheels! I haven't forgotten about you! I took a peek at your costume's schematic and I have just the tune-ups it needs in the drafts already!" Ignoring the blue-haired boy's feeble attempts to shoot her offer down, the pink-haired girl turned to the raven-haired girl staring down at her with concern that the other girl could shoulder. "I don't think we've met yet. Hatsume Mei, future founder of Hatsume Industries!"

Yaoyorozu took the shorter girl's hand to shake, looking over her head to the two boys offering her looks of apology and exasperation. "A pleasure to finally meet you, Hatsume," Yaoyorozu greeted slowly. "I am Yaoyorozu Momo. I've heard so much about you from Midoriya. You're an inventor in our support department classes at Yuei, correct?"

"That I am!" Hatsume posed in pride. "I'll be personally providing your class president with the equipment he needs to get my name out there and be scouted by the companies I'll overthrow and take over to support all herokind!"

"Bit cheesy evil mastermind, but she got the spirit," Izuku mumbled to himself before furrowing his brows in confusion. "Also I never told you I was class prez."

"Legolas did."

Izuku panned his body slowly to his taller, bullet-sweating friend as the pink-haired girl went on a small back-patting rant on her wordplay. "Did he now?"

Not bothering to look back at the two boys locking eyes silently, Hatsume jumped at Yaoyorozu again with her calculating eyes. "What's your quirk, by the way? These two wouldn't tell me what their new friends could do, and if I don't have that vital information then I can't redesign and fix your costumes to suit your full list of capabilities!"

"You don't have to do that," Yaoyorozu sweatdropped and backed away from the tiptoeing girl. "I like my costume the way it is. I need my skin exposed to create the tools for certain scenarios and I've sacrificed enough opening in the fabric as is—"

Izuku could do nothing to save his raven-haired friend as Hatsume all but clung to her like a koala. With the revelation that Hatsume had found her one true source for creating her babies, she took Yaoyorozu by the hands and dragged her along down the marketplace, sprouting mechanical nonsense Izuku didn't know a lick about to a taller girl that begrudgingly went along for the ride while shooting looks of farewell to the two boys now alone at their meeting spot.

"Oh, I guess everyone went on ahead already," Izuku noted, finding the other trio of his friends nowhere in sight. "Probably took the hint to run when Hatsume showed up. And I wanted to introduce her to Kaminari, too. Uraraka keeps saying his electricity has a backfire; she could make something to help with that."

"Unless it ends blowing up in his face, in which case we have ended up losing progress," Iida criticised the idea under his breath. "My calves are still sore from the braces she made me. How does sheet metal with a locking mechanism result in an explosion?"

"How much of your leg fibers are made of iron to have survived that, better question." With the rest of their collective gone on the run, Izuku took the first steps forward to follow with Iida catching along by his side. "I hope she doesn't kill Yaoyorozu. I need her back alive."

He could feel the raised brow of a glance Iida pointed his way. "You need her? What for?"

"To shoulder my woes because all my peers want me to be a president against my will." Izuku rolled his eyes at Iida's sigh of exasperation. "Is it really so bad I don't think I'm fit for the role? You guys could just let me pass it on to Yaoyorozu and place you in the seat of vice. You two would make an excellent pair running for office."

"I thank you for your faith in me, Midoriya." Iida bowed his head in gratitude. "But please do have faith in our judgement of you, too. I voted for you to take the position myself because I believe it would be the best course of action for you. Hear me out" — he held up his hands to silence the response dangling on Izuku's tongue — "please. I am not...positive in our attempts to lead our class on about your 'quirk.' I know you are hesitant to trust them, and if Bakugou could be accepted into our class then I share your concern on who else may end up like him. I not only have faith in your judgement and ability to act as the head of our class, but I too think if anything this role will give you the opportunity to form stronger trust and companionship with our classmates before the day the truth comes forward. To set a fallback of a connection with everyone that may help us in avoiding unnecessary conflict amongst ourselves. Uraraka, Kaminari, Yaoyorozu — I think they are good friends and I would hate to see us butt heads about something so trivial. I pray they are nothing that my fears lead me to believe they are."

Ah, right. The head of their conflict. The lie of Izuku's quirk genetics he had only just begun to question. The responsibility he had placed on Iida's shoulders to aid him in his lies and pull the covers over their classmates and new friends' eyes so they didn't have to open the school year butting heads with everyone who had a problem with a quirkless freak trying to stand on equal ground with people born for the hero world. Izuku's fault, to summarize.

"I think we can trust them," Izuku softly replied. "Everyone, maybe not, but them?" He waved his hand out to the crowd of people darting around them, though he would have aimed his fingers directly at their newest friends, "I want to keep them around. I am sorry you're having to deal with my shit and my problems. I want to tell them, but...not yet." As much as he truly wanted to walk into class with his heart on his sleeve and the truth pouring from his lips, they stayed sewed inside. Appreciation and admiration from his peers because of his performance in the exam and battle trial, Uraraka's gratitude for his and Iida's joint effort against the Zero Pointer, Yaoyorozu's compliments and confidence in his abilities through her eyes that sent flutters through his heart; he didn't want to risk that if he had the choice. "I'll do it myself when I'm ready, I promise. And if you think it will help, I'll keep the class president roll; if that blows up in my face I'm tying you down to Hatsume's mercy. She could use a sponsor who can make some good distance."

"That is somehow reassuring, threatening and confusing at all once, but thank you," Iida told him, placing a soft hand on his shoulder. "I'll be by your side when that time comes."

Izuku would hold him to that promise. Any shoulder to hold him up was going to be appreciated.

Izuku never did finish cleaning the beach front after a whole year of using it to train. The mountains of trash were too much for him and Hatsume alone to handle. They had dented the piles well enough that about half the beach had been cleaned of the garbage, but that meant there was still half left for them to clear.

Or for himself to clear, really. He could barely get Hatsume to join his classmates at lunch, how he managed to bring her to the mall was but a stroke of luck. Now that she had school resources to fall back on, the pink-haired girl had no need to resort to scraps for her tools. She had only asked (instructed but Izuku was letting that slide) that he save for her any devices or materials that looked well intact, but it wasn't like he had an eye for that. There were only so many other uses for a toaster than cooking bread or exploding, it didn't matter what condition it was in. And he could invite everyone else, yes, but hauling garbage probably wasn't a first-time request for a hangout he could choose.

It was still too late in the day to do any of that, though. Izuku had planned on using his Sundays to get back to the task, to try and clean the beach before the first year at Yuei ended. But then the invitation to the mall came and Izuku wasn't going to turn his friends down like that, even if they already had the rest of the week together in class. Maybe next Sunday he could get back to that.

For now though, alone after parting ways from his friends only an hour ago, trotting through the sand as his runners dug into the ground, Izuku was going to just relax the day away. Their syllabus was hinting to — or threatening depending on how Izuku read it — another week of hands-on training and exercises not unlike their mock indoor battle class. It was probably best he just allowed his mind to clear and to calm himself from a hectic first week.

"Oh," a deep voice shouted out in surprise, and Izuku craned his head up one of the garbage mountains to the white-haired young man seated at the top. "You're still alive, kid. Thought you went and kicked it after last time. Don't even have your bat."

"Nah, just house arrest, kinda," Izuku announced back up to the man sliding down the trash to him. "Sorry I didn't really tell ya anything about that."

Hunter brushed his apology away with a wave of his hand. "I don't have a phone you could call me with anyways. What are you doing, still bouncing around?"

Izuku continued his stoll down the shore, Hunter following slowly behind him. "Taking time off. It's the weekend. What else am I supposed to do with it?"

"Fight people," Hunter responded bluntly. "Rebel. You should've graduated junior high and left those jackasses behind. What else do you have to do with your week now?"

"High school?" Izuku gave the older boy a questioning look over his shoulder. "I got accepted into Yuei. Classes started last week."

"Ah." Hunter's unenthusiastic note was what Izuku got as a response. "Right. You were trying for that."

"Did you not think I'd get in?"

The white-haired boy shrugged his shoulders. "Thought they'd give you more shit for not having a quirk. Not everyone's a particular fan of quirkless people."

Izuku hummed his sentiment. He was lucky to finally attend a school where the staff didn't give him shit for being born. How long that was going to last, he didn't know, and if it would stay after he graduated — if they'd let him graduate — was still up in the air. "It's a good thing not everyone's like that."

"Not enough." Hunter was quick to follow after Izuku's wishful judgement with pessimism. "Pieces of shit question a kid's worth off their quirk. You'll find less people who think you can be someone in the world than you will other people without quirks."

Despite the situations of late that could argue otherwise, Izuku had to bow his head and acknowledge the fact it did take a decade just to make a friend who saw him as more than a quirkless loser. Even then, he was still holding people at arm's length from that information from new people he met. Maybe they could be different, maybe they already were different; the chance neither were right still outweighed the rest. Just moving along with people believing he had a weak strength quirk instead just so he wouldn't have to deal with other people's shit.

"I guess I'm getting off lucky then," Izuku reasoned solemnly. "Meeting my friends. Having these teachers. Meeting you." The older boy beside him visibly softened his shoulders and his glare. "It's only been a week, but I think I can trust them. Just not fully, yet. But enough."

"Well if they give you shit about it, kicking their asses usually shuts them up. They place all their pride in being the strongest, you can break it easily."

Izuku nodded with a resonating sigh, his mind already picturing the perfect example to represent Hunter's description. "Yeah, I already know someone like that. I think I did that already, too. Haven't seen his face since." Wherever Katsuki was in Yuei, not once did they cross paths on campus; not between classes or lunch, or before and after the school hours, did Izuku ever see Katsuki on campus, even though his spiritual aunt and uncle had confirmed he was still attending when they had brought his mother a platter of snickerdoodles.

"If you're as lucky as you say you are, then you've already got it into everyone's heads you're not to be fucked with." Though he didn't smile, Hunter's face expressed something akin to humor and pride. "Take it in pride. To be where you are demands respect from your inferiors."

"My classmates aren't inferior to me," Izuku defended them quickly, snapping at the taller boy a bit harshly. "They're good people. They like me. And I like them. Yeah, Katsuki's a jackass, but none of them are like him."

There was still doubt dancing in Hunter's eyes as he frowned down at Izuku. "Are you confident in that?"

"Yes." The green-haired teen stopped his stroll abruptly, leading to the older man stalling until he did too several steps ahead. "I found people who tell me they give a shit about me. I've known some of them longer than I have you. Not everyone in the world is an asshole."

Izuku couldn't decipher the expression that washed over Hunter's face. He was intimately familiar with disappointment but this was something slightly different. Maybe it was the same thing he had seen on his mother's face and All-Might's last time they talked.

"Why do you care so much?" Izuku asked him. "It's nice you do and all, really. But I barely know you. I barely see you. We barely talk. What does it matter to you if a quirkless nobody to you has to deal with bullies or not?"

The taller man emanated a small growl as he turned away and returned to walking, and Izuku gave them both a moment of silence before he followed along. For all the thanks he could give Hunter for the past, there were still gaping holes in what he knew about the man. Izuku didn't know his full name, he didn't know his job, he didn't know his phone number, he didn't know where he lived around here — if he even did live close by. Hunter knew more about him than vice versa. Izuku knew his own mother would hound him if she found out about this guy.

"I've seen what happens to quirkless," Hunter began, not stopping or turning to talk. "I know how low they go and how they don't come back. I've seen it once before and I'll be damned if I see it happen again." He finally peered back over his shoulder. "You have friends now, sure. People care about you, no reason to stop them. If they ever do, I'll kick their asses for you."

Izuku wanted to prod him deeper on that. The mysterious quirkless Hunter must have known; someone far less fortunate than him and, if the news was anything to go by, might have ended up as one of the million a year who aren't around to see the next. Izuku wanted to know what he had probably avoided in his own future. He hadn't thought of it before, but not everyone was invincible and he was no exception. Izuku wanted to know what Hunter had done to, with and for the other guy or girl, and if the weight of responsibility on his shoulder was more than just out of sadness and grief.

"As long as you respect them while I do, thanks," Izuku told him instead. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't be," Hunter responded flatly. "As long as you don't bow down to anyone, do as you please. You're tough shit; act like it. Own up to it. Hold it over anyone's head that tries to say otherwise. If you're everything I've seen you to be, they won't do shit."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know."

Their stroll on the beach was silent the rest of the way to the end, and from there Hunter waved his goodbyes and strolled off down the road without Izuku. Instead of following suit, the green-haired teen stayed on the shore, walked back to the mounds of trash and tore down small knick knacks and devices into their own pile. Somehow, it was refreshing — calming, even — to get back to the work he had put off for the start of the school year.

He wondered if any of his friends would think of this as a worthwhile exercise. It'd be a shitty get-together, but maybe he could bribe them with hero points and favors.

It was easy to sneak into Yuei. As impressive as their technology and security was, having a butler who could teleport to exact coordinates and leave the way he entered surpassed their abilities. Even better when the corpse inside retained memory and locations of the campus's interior to map out for their plans.

While he could have easily commissioned his henchmen to plant bombs along the campus and wreak havoc on children and the heroes sworn to protect them, it wasn't his style. Weapons of destruction were meant for the lessers attempting to overturn his throne; the battlefield was where he would see heroes and their hopefuls die before him. And to flush All-Might onto the scene and wipe him from the equation would be far less entertaining without a living audience.

A desire which led to their breaking and entering of a hero school and copying a schedule of their soonest event.

Heroics training at a campus-owned facility, located at another corner of the grounds away from the main building. A single class of freshmen hero trainees seen over by three of the teachers and one out-of-place senior student assisting them. There was little reason an upperclassman had to teach other students unless they were training for a position among the staff when they graduated; an artificial means to top Hawks's accolades for someone so youthful in the Top Ten. They would change nothing, however, and put up little resistance against the beasts the doctor had engineered for their missions.

Now was an opportunity to strike. The eighth holder of his brother's quirk had no other reason to teach at a school of hero wannabees than to single out a successor before he kicked the bucket. It was naive to sort through the youngest the school had to offer, though maybe the fool had hoped to pass his responsibilities on to a child with much left to learn and ease themselves into the position of power with the other school staff to take his place. A double-edged sword, no doubt. But one he could use to his advantage, no doubt.

All for One smiled in joy and tapped the lone button on his desk. "Kurogiri? Inform Tomura of the date of our plans. I'll send the Nomu tomorrow so he can familiarize himself with the proper commands before the big day. And do make sure Yagi is still breathing before I arrive; I would like to kill the children in front of him myself."