A/N: if you haven't yet read Izuku and Mei's Excellent Adventure, I'd recommend doing that. Otherwise, there'll be some details that won't make sense.

For those of you that have come from that first story, welcome! And thanks for staying aboard this flaming wreck of a cruise ship as it sails its way back into MHA's territory, complete with OP Izuku shenanigans, classmates with mixed feelings about those shenanigans, a hero society that has no idea how to handle him, and villains desperate to take his power for themselves. Marines will probably get involved at some point, because of course they will. Leave some follows and favorites so I know this dumpster fire of a fanfiction platform still has some functionality, and keep arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times.

Izuku was practically buzzing with excitement as he settled into his desk at Aldera High, fifteen minutes before the bell. The stiff plastic seat and flimsy desk in front of him felt nostalgic, even if it was a tight squeeze. He had his pencils lined up, books stacked high, and his notebook opened to his latest entries. As he read through his own notes, he felt bewildered by unfamiliar mathematical equations and historical dates from a timeline his mind had twisted into knots.

Faced with the prospect of brushing up after two years away from a textbook, Izuku grinned and set himself to reading from the start. His eyes flicked across the pages, and his fingernails swept each page as he finished it. Within minutes, he set aside mathematics and dug into his language book.

Izuku stopped when he heard the door open. He glanced over and saw Bakugo swagger in. A radiant euphoria filled him as he basked in yet another piece of home he had missed these past two years.

"Oh, hey Kacchan! Great to see you!"

Bakugo's jaw twitched, and his hands let out a pop. "Shove off, Deku. Some of us have U.A. entrance exams to prepare for."

Izuku felt the tiniest murmur of fear in his chest. Perplexed, Izuku ignored it and kept smiling.

"Yeah, you tell him Bakugo," another kid said.

Izuku shrugged and went back to his notes. As he read, he heard one student whisper, "Is it me, or does Deku look different?"

"I think he dyed his hair. As if maybe someone would think he had a Quirk," they added with a snicker.

"It's not just the hair. His skin looks darker too."

"Probably just the hair. He tried to bleach it and it didn't take. Idiot."

The conversation ended when the teacher strode in. "Alright class," he said, "Today we're going to review your career choice submissions." He paused for a beat, then added, "Is what I would say if you hadn't all picked heroics."

The class erupted into raucous cheers and displays of Quirks. The teacher had to shout a few times before he got them all to settle down.

"Yes, yes, it's all very exciting. However, it's important that you at least consider a back-up option."

Bakugo snorted. "Speak for the extras. I'm getting into U.A."

"Of course!" the teacher excitedly agreed. "And it looks like we have one other aiming to get into U.A."

The teacher gave a meaningful glance at Izuku. The students around him giggled, and one said, "Really Deku? Do you think you even have a chance of getting in?"

"Hm?" Izuku looked up from his book. "Oh, U.A.? I already got accepted."

Dead silence fell over the class. The teacher gaped at him, unsure what to make of his claim. "Now, Midoriya, you really shouldn't lie like that."

"I'm not?" Izuku asked. "If you're confused, you could always call Principal Nezu."

"Probably got a pity invite to their General Course," a student drawled. The comment got multiple snickers.

"Nah, I'm in the Hero Course. I even met my homeroom teacher."

Bakugo slammed his hands on his desk, splintering the cheap plastic with a deafening explosion. "Deku!" he roared. "The fuck did you just say? Are you mocking me?"

Izuku felt a powerful urge to shrink into his seat, to cower and cringe before Bakugo. The part of him seasoned with the salt and sea spray of another world examined the puppy yapping at him and found him wanting.

Izuku gave him a sly smile, pushing through his warring emotions. "What, mad you're only going to be the second person from this school to get into U.A.?"

The whole class stared at him in open-mouthed shock. The people nearest him slowly edged away, warily watching Bakugo. The teacher looked torn between admonishing him, calming down Bakugo, or sprinting out the door. Bakugo stepped back, his expression flitting between confusion and fury. His face turned scarlet, his teeth ground noisily together, and beads of nitroglycerin snapped in his hands.

"Oh, you're dead, Deku. They'll never find the body."

"They will if they look at U.A."

Bakugo trembled with rage, looking as though his entire body would explode at any second. The smell of burnt sugar filled the room and every pair of eyes darted towards the nearest exit, but Izuku sat in his seat, calmly smiling back at Bakugo, simply glad he got to talk to his best friend again after all these years.

"Bakugo, please sit down," the teacher begged. "It's time to review the course material for the entrance exams."

Bakugo glared at the teacher, and the man flinched. Yet, the magic words 'entrance exam' worked their wonders on Bakugo. He let out a long, frustrated growl, rubbed the sweat off his hands, and grumpily threw himself into his seat.

Izuku, still needing to take U.A.'s academic exam, absorbed every word of the teacher's lecture like a wrung-out sponge. Between that and rapidly flipping through his textbooks, he found himself far less lost by the time the bell rang for lunch.

When other students brought out platters of rice, meat, and vegetables for the whole class, Izuku, oblivious to their protests, helped himself to ten servings of each. His tower of food wobbled precariously as he nimbly stepped around students and tables until he claimed his seat in the far corner of the room.

As he shoved entire trays into his mouth, his voracious eating habits drew stares and whispers from across the cafeteria. Within minutes, people had abandoned their lunches entirely to watch Izuku wolf down yet another bowl of rice.

One student among them walked towards Izuku's table. He approached with a malicious grin, hand outstretched to knock over Izuku's pile of platters. The quiet muttering turned into excited titters and muffled giggles as the school eagerly awaited the toppling of Izuku's food tower.

The moment the student's hand came within an inch of Izuku's food, Izuku jabbed his chopsticks into the table. The sharp 'thwack' sound it made cut the mocking laughter like a knife, leaving its fading echoes dead in the air. As for the prankster, he stared in horror at the bamboo sticks, perfectly intact, driven straight through the table. Had his fingers been any closer, his nails would have gotten trimmed.

Izuku, now missing his chopsticks, simply scooped more food into his mouth with his hands. No one saw fit to laugh at him.

Midway through the last round of review, a call came over the intercom for Izuku. The class jeered as Izuku gathered his books and went off to the principal's office. He got lost for a few minutes, not quite remembering which way to go, until a sign got him back on track.

After a knock on the door, the principal told him to come in. When Izuku grabbed the doorknob, he felt a spike of fear. Memories of other visits to the principal's office flashed by him. The principal had told him that he was worthless, that he should stop getting in the way of their best student, that no one would care if he complained to anyone else. Being told he was imagining things when his tests were marked incorrectly, being blamed when students stole his books or flung his food across the cafeteria.

"Are you coming in or not?" the principal snapped.

Izuku jerked away from the door. A static shock jumped from his fingertips to the metal knob. He clenched a fist and watched lightning dance across his arm.

"Sorry. Excuse me."

Izuku closed the door behind him and took a seat in the old, uncomfortable chair in front of the principal's desk. The principal gave him a stern look and said, "It has come to my attention that you have attacked a fellow student, vandalized school property, and stole extra helpings from the cafeteria staff."

"Really? When did that happen?"

"At lunch. Multiple witnesses reported that you stabbed at another student with chopsticks when they went to sit down in front of you with enough force to puncture the table."

Izuku suddenly remembered the two chopsticks sticking out of the table when he went to return his empty trays.

"Oh, whoops. Force of habit. Do you need me to pay for the table?"

The principal's eyebrow twitched. "The table isn't the issue here. The issue is the student you assaulted!"

"Assaulted? Did I hurt them? I didn't see any blood."

"Well, no, but-"

"So what's the problem?"

The principal slammed their palms on their desk. "The problem is, Midoriya, that you have caused your classmate significant distress by threatening them with bodily harm, and we do not tolerate that kind of behavior in this school?"

Izuku tilted his head. "Bakugo and everyone else threaten me with bodily harm all the time, and no one's ever had a problem with that."

"Enough of this!" the principal roared. "I will not hear any words besmirching this school's finest student. You have caused problems ever since your enrollment here. You've disrupted class, harassed fellow students, and quite frankly, your condition leaves you absolutely useless to society. You're lucky we've tolerated you as long as we have. With this incident, however, it's clear to me there is no hope of correcting your behavior. Izuku Midoriya, for assaulting a classmate and damaging school property, you are hereby-"

A frantic knock came from the door. The principal froze, mid-tirade. Izuku let out the breath he had been holding and realized he had clenched his fists hard enough to crack the wooden frame of the chair he sat in. He felt guilty for a second, before he realized the principal was going to expel him anyway. What was a broken chair on top of that?"

"Sir, there's something I-" Izuku's teacher went pale seeing him in the other seat.

"Yes, what is it?" the principal asked irritably. "I was just about to-"

"I need to talk to you. Privately."

The principal leveled a glare at Izuku. "Wait right outside the door. And don't try to listen in. You're in enough trouble already."

Izuku pressed his ear to the door. If the last two years had taught him anything, it was if you were already in trouble, you might as well start punching Marines. They'd shoot at you either way.

"Earlier in class," the teacher said, "Izuku said that he was already accepted into U.A."

"And that's another reason I get to add to his expulsion form, excellent."

"So I called them up, and it turns out he's telling the truth."

"What." The bravado blew out of the principal like a popped balloon.

"He got accepted yesterday, after, I quote, he teleported a car half a mile into the air, flew down, pulled someone out of the way of an eighteen-wheeler, stopped the eighteen-wheeler as it went off the road, then caught the car. Apparently U.A. has a vigilante rehabilitation program for minors performing illegal heroic deeds."

The principal sputtered. "There's no way that's real!"

"A video of it went viral. I still have it on my phone."

Curious, Izuku took out his own phone and looked it up. He felt mildly horrified it had already crossed a million views.

"So," the teacher said. "You mentioned something about an expulsion form. For Midoriya?"

The principal let out a long sigh. "Great job following up on this. I don't even want to think about what would happen if U.A. heard we expelled him."

"I trust you have it handled?"

"Yes, just pretend nothing happened. The year's almost over anyways."

Izuku backed away from the door when he heard the teacher walking out. The teacher gave him a nod, said, "Nice catch," and went back to class.

As Izuku took the seat again, the principal had a forced smile on his face. "Terribly sorry about the wait. So, about the whole lunchtime incident, I've decided to let you off with a warning. Kids will be kids sometimes, and as long as you don't do it again, we can keep it off your record."

Izuku felt fury simmering inside of him. The principal had spent years treating him like trash and calling him worthless, only to immediately change his tune the moment he heard Izuku had gotten into U.A.?

He thought about how he could tear the school apart with his bare hands. Leap up and rain lightning down until only a scorched crater remained. Or he could figuratively tear the school apart with a single phone call to Nezu. U.A. had strict policies against harassment, after all.

But then, if the school was investigated, what would happen to Kacchan? If word got out about what he did, he would never make it into U.A.

Then again, did Izuku care?

"Really?" Izuku asked blandly. "It sounded a lot like you were about to expel me."

The principal gulped. "Ah, well, perhaps I could have worded my intentions better. Obviously I wouldn't expel a student so close to the end of the year."

"Why not? As you said earlier, I've been causing problems since my enrollment." Izuku leaned forward, and the principal shrank in his chair. "You said that there's no hope of correcting my behavior." Izuku stood, towering over the principal. "And, what was it? That my condition makes me useless?"

"B-but you're not Quirkless anymore! I saw it!"

"You're right. I'm not Quirkless anymore." Izuku reached for the electricity powering the lightbulb and yanked it out of the circuit. The bulb exploded in a shower of glass. Crackling lightning flowed from the exposed socket and coalesced around Izuku's hands.

"So this makes it okay for me to attack other people and tell them they're worthless, right? What about you, then? What's stopping me from smashing your face into your desk until one of them breaks?"

The principal froze in terror. He tried to speak, but the words got stuck in his throat. Izuku squeezed his fist, dissipating the electricity in a green flash. "You want to know what's funny?"

As the silence drew on, Izuku's gaze bored deep into the principal. Shivering, the man croaked, "W-what?"

"Everything you saw in that video? I did all of that without using my Quirk."

To prove his point, Izuku grabbed the edge of the desk and lifted it. The cables connected to the principal's computer went taut, pulling the computer across the desk until it tipped sideways. Izuku hoisted his desk over his head, until he could stare directly at the principal with the desk overhead.

"No one is worthless," Izuku said. "I thought I was, once, but I worked hard to get this strong. Quirk or no Quirk, I will become the number one hero."

Izuku set the desk down. The principal winced as the base of it narrowly missed his feet.

"The more I remember of this place, the more disgusted I am that I ever wanted to come back here."

The principal nervously adjusted his tie and tried to smile. "W-what do you want? I could have your grades adjusted, or clean up your record. You wouldn't want U.A. seeing all those negative comments about you, right? I'll have everything fixed by tomorrow."

"Don't bother. I doubt Nezu cares about anything you would have to say."

"T-then what do you want?"

Izuku imagined seeing the principal dragged out in handcuffs. Or staring in shock at a school demolished by lightning. But in all those imaginings, Izuku felt a sense of apathy. Why would he even bother ruining this man's life? The man cowering before him was so far beneath him that Izuku felt no joy in defeating him.

"You have nothing that I want. Goodbye, principal. I won't be coming back."

Leaving behind a bewildered principal, Izuku felt as though a weight had left his shoulders. By the time he made it back to class to get his books, the school day had ended, and Izuku left with everyone else. It wasn't until the crowd of students had thinned out and Izuku entered a quiet stretch of road that he heard a familiar shout behind him.

"Deku!" Bakugo roared. "Don't think I forgot what you said this morning!"

The two students flanking him grinned and cracked their knuckles.

"What did I say this morning?" asked Izuku, who had genuinely forgotten.

Bakugo's face went beet-red. "That's it. You're in for it now. Get him!"

Tsubasa flapped his wings and charged at him. Izuku leaned aside, letting Tsubasa trip himself on his leg. While he tumbled over, the next student grabbed Izuku's shirt. He yanked, and he nearly fell over when Izuku refused to budge.

"What the hell?" Bakugo lit sparks in his hands. "Are you two seriously getting pushed around by Deku?"

"S-something's not right, Bakugo," the student tugging Izuku's shirt said. "We should go."

"Go?" Tsubasa roared. "He's just standing there! Are you really afraid of some wimp?"

Tsubasa charged from behind. He plowed into Izuku's back, trying to sweep him off his feet. Izuku's shoes never budged.

"What the heck? How is he not moving?"

"Step aside, you idiots. I got this." Bakugo sauntered up, looked Izuku in the eye, and threw a punch. Izuku let it land on his cheek. Bakugo hissed in pain and cradled his wrist, backed away and gave Izuku a confused look.

"Is that it?" Izuku asked. He didn't even seem to breathe for all he looked like a statue, tall and immovable before the boys pushing and hitting him.

Bakugo roared and threw his other fist. It collided with Izuku's nose. Bakugo's middle finger audibly popped as Izuku's nose bent it back into his palm. With another roar, Bakugo flung an open palm. The explosion engulfed Izuku's head, but as the smoke cleared, not a mark lingered on Izuku's skin. Even his hair had escaped unscathed. Bakugo flung explosion after explosion, each one bigger than the last, until Bakugo gasped for breath and his palms were burned raw from all the detonated nitroglycerin.

As the echoes of the explosions faded, Izuku spoke into the silence. "For the longest time, I thought we were still friends. Now that I have real friends, friends who care about me and stand by my side no matter what, just like how I stood with them, I know you're not one of them, and you haven't been for a long time."

Izuku grabbed the two students still clinging to him by their shirt collars and gently pried them off him. They shivered at the easy way that Izuku manhandled them both.

"We're done, Bakugo."

Izuku turned and walked away. Bakugo stood dumbstruck for a moment, before his features twisted into a scowl. "Deku! Don't you walk away from me!"

Izuku left Bakugo's shouts behind him as he walked home. His path meandered down alleys and abandoned streets as he wondered why everything was so different from what he remembered. He thought that Bakugo still cared, in his own way, trying to toughen him up. He even thought the school was right about him being worthless. How had he ever lived like this? How had he stood it, all these years, covering up burns and bruises and accepting blame for whatever the principal and teachers accused him of, just so his mom wouldn't worry?

And why did it sting so much, leaving Kacchan - leaving Bakugo behind like that?

He felt like a foot ten sizes too large for an old shoe. He no longer fit in the life of Izuku Midoriya. His bed was too small, the All Might posters and paraphernalia lining his walls seemed too creepy, and Inko's meals left his stomach yearning for more. He had finally made it back, only to realize that maybe he should've stayed in the other world after all. At least there, he belonged.

Lost in his thoughts as he was, he never heard the sewer grate pop. He never heard the slime villain rush towards him. But as the villain lunged, Izuku spun and threw a roundhouse punch. Izuku's Haki-coated fist buried itself in the villain's face and splattered him against the wall of the underpass.

Izuku panted and clenched his fist until his fingernails dug into his palm. He itched to keep punching, to thrash the villain that had jumped him until every inch of the street was smeared with the villain's gelatinous body, but the rational part of his brain frantically put the brakes on the prospective vigilantism and manslaughter. With an irritated huff, Izuku kept walking and looked for something to punch.

When he saw the giant trash heap cluttering Dagobah beach, Izuku knew he found his punching bag. Refrigerators, rusted cars, appliances, heaps of abandoned lumber and warped steel beams, everything went flying, imprinted with Izuku's fist and feet, as he tore through the garbage piles of the beach.

Once Izuku finally ran out of steam, he wiped the sweat off his brow and looked around. Before, the beach had some semblance of order, with the trash sectioned off into piles. Now, the trash was scattered along Izuku's wake. Torn plastic and paper bobbed in the waves, and jagged splinters of metal and wood jutted from the trash-strewn sand like spears.

Izuku grimaced at the mess. The beach hadn't been clean by any standard, but this mess spilled out onto the streets and the ocean. Someone could get hurt if no one cleaned it up.

With that thought in mind, Izuku scanned the area. The trash in the waves made grabbing them risky, but with bursts of Geppo, Izuku darted over the sea, scooping trash into his arms and dumping them into nearby garbage dumpsters. Izuku tackled the heavier items next, lugging entire cars to a nearby lot and dumping the appliances in any bin that could hold him. For the lighter items, he had to range increasingly farther away for empty dumpsters, but with Soru, Izuku flashed from beach to dumpster, hauling entire armloads of garbage bags and wadded plastic in the blink of an eye.

The sun still shone over the rooftops as Izuku combed the beach for any last debris. He sprinted so quickly the sand churned in his wake, then doubled back and plucked any bit of metal or wood that caught his eye. After a couple passes, Izuku checked his work. The beach had a distinctive wind-blasted look, with eddies of sand sweeping onto sidewalks and odd trenches where Izuku had sprinted through, but the sand itself had a toasted almond color that glowed in the waning sunlight, and the ocean waves glittered as they lapped against the shore.

Izuku's stomach loudly reminded him that he was really late getting home. With another burst of speed, Izuku flitted through the light pedestrian traffic, leapt straight up the apartment's stairs, and opened the door so quickly he nearly tore out the hinges.

"Sorry I'm late," Izuku said. "Also, I'm not going back to Aldera anymore."

"What?" Inko looked horrified. "Did something happen?"

Izuku shrugged. "I should've left that place years ago. Doesn't matter, with U.A. already accepting me, and the principal agreed to it."

It occurred to Izuku that he had left before the principal could say anything. However, he had a feeling the man wouldn't correct him.

"Oh, alright then. Dinner's a bit cold, so I'll warm some up for you."

Izuku resigned himself to another night with a tight belt as he scraped every grain of rice off his plate. When he went to leave, Inko brought over a second plate, piled high with more beef teriyaki.

"You're still hungry, aren't you?" Inko asked. She looked nervous as she pushed the food towards him. "I noticed you eating more than normal this morning, and it seemed like you expected more last night."

Holding back tears, Izuku took the second plate. He rapidly shoveled the food in while Inko heated up a third helping. As Izuku wolfed down round after round, he thanked his mom for giving himself at least one place that he still fit.

After washing all the dishes, taking care not to let his hands dip too deeply into the sink, he cracked open his textbooks. Maybe Aldera no longer fit him, but U.A. was a new start, where only the greatest students came to learn. If anywhere else in his world still fit him, he would find it there.

A/N: the grass always looks greener on the other side of the fence. Izuku just now realizes he's only ever had dried, yellow weeds back home while the One Piece side has magic grass that makes everything it touches plus ultra.