A Legacy Writ In Crimson

by Phantom9800

Red Hood died when the Dimensional Transporter exploded, snarling in the face of the Regime. Several dimensions away Izuku Midoriya woke up with skills he didn’t remember learning, memories that definitely weren’t his, and half an answer to the question that had plagued him all his life: can someone without a Quirk be a hero?

2. Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Notes:

Just thought I'd throw this out to keep things going, as it were. Probably going to switch to every two or three weeks from now on, if I can maintain my current writing pace.

Anyone waiting for updates to Empress Ascendant, tomorrow. The next chapter just needs spell-checking and it'll be all good.

Enjoy.

Roughly ten hours later, Izuku woke himself up by falling out of bed and landing on his face. He yelped and flailed, pens that had fallen on the floor jabbing at him, and heard him Mom call out from the kitchen, concerned. He rolled over and flipped back to his feet in a single movement, sucking in a breath as the muscles in his stomach reminded him that no, he wasn't really capable of that. His Mom knocked on his door and he waved his hands around.

"I- I'm fine, Mom! Just fell out of bed!"

At least it was a Saturday. Maybe things were looking up after all- and his headache was gone. He didn't think that the memories were going to stop, but…oh. Yeah. The memories. Izuku pulled off his shirt, wincing at the smell of sweat that clung to it. He needed a shower.

"You're distracting yourself," he whispered, "It's a bad habit. What would Bruce think?"

Izuku shuddered, arms wrapping around himself as though he could stave off the chills that wracked his frame. He'd only gotten the most basic of memories- the cliff notes version of Jason Todd- but apparently it was enough that he still referenced Batman.

"The Dimensional Teleporter broke down, but that can't have been…something else Luthor made, something in the vault. All of the memories, but I can't remember them…a failsafe? But those muggers, I knew how to- so more than memories. Skills? I need to test it. I need data. I need- I need…"

Izuku was cut off by the growl of his empty stomach, blinking down at his torso.

"I need to get a shower and some breakfast before I do anything else," he concluded softly, smiling slightly. He finished dressing and headed out of his room, smiling at his Mom when he saw her in the kitchen.

"Hey, Mom," he said, eyes watering. He never thought that he'd feel wistfulness for something he'd always known, but apparently it could happen. He hugged her, sniffling slightly, and she pulled away with concern on her face.

"Izuku? Are you alright, honey? I saw your note but you were asleep when I checked."

Izuku rubbed a hand across his eyes, smiling.

"Yeah, I'm ok Mom. Just a bug or something, I was really tired when I got home from school."

His Mom sized him up for a moment before she nodded, smiling.

"I'm glad you're feeling better, Izuku."

"Thanks, Mom."

A bowl of cereal- All Might branded Mighty-Os, which made Izuku wonder if Cheerios were still around – what were Cheerios- and a quick shower later Izuku felt even more human and retired to his room. He picked up his pens, putting them back on his desk, and sat with his charred and battered notebook open in front of him, toying nervously with a pencil. Normally his thoughts flowed easily to the page, but these ones…Red Hood might be better left undocumented. Izuku tapped nervously, the quick rhythm of the pencil against his desk clicking along with his racing thoughts. His notebook was ruined, he sadly noted. Needed to be replaced. And since he was going to replace it anyway, might as well do it now. Izuku rummaged through the desk drawers, finding a fresh notebook and labelling it in careful, neat script.

"Hero Analysis for the future, Volume Fourteen. That'll do," he murmured, letting the soft mumble of his voice sooth him alongside the scratch of pencil lead on paper, "First entry- Mount Lady. New Hero, don't know what school she attended. Quirk allows her to increase size…wonder if she only has one size or if she can adjust it? Second would be more useful…can't expect it, though. Saw her enter with a flying kick, probably trained in combat. Costume was…covers all of her but it's tight…uses her sex appeal, maybe? Common in newer heroes. Press attention helps, but thin line between attention and scandal…normal size…wonder how her damage resistance works…is she tougher when larger? How quickly can she grow? Is she bulletproof? Does her larger size have more resistance due to Quirk, or just due to relative thickness of skin? If she was hit by gas in her normal state, would effects carry over to-"

There was a rippling, rustling noise behind him and Izuku jolted, spinning on his chair. His hand snapped out without even thinking and the pencil whipped across the room, striking dead centre on the poster that had fallen from the wall and pinning it in place. Izuku let out a barely muffled yelp and jerked backwards, toppling off his chair and rolling as he hit the ground, heart hammering. Izuku clenched his fists, gritting his teeth as adrenaline surged through him, staying crouched and drawing carefully measured breaths through his nose, forcing himself to calm down. He stayed crouched like that for several minutes, breathing slowly and carefully until his heartrate had returned to normal. Ok. That wasn't great. He wasn't normally anything near to that twitchy.

"Memories and possible PTSD. Great job, Jason," he whispered, carefully putting a hand on his chair and using it to help him stand. Of all the things he could have inherited, it couldn't have been…wait. Izuku's train of thought wandered as his eyes fell upon the pencil, pinning the poster to the wall. It had gone directly through the centre of All Might's eyeline, which wasn't great, but…

"I'm pretty sure I couldn't throw a pencil like that before," he mumbled. The thought was there, unbidden, whispering softly. He couldn't- but Jason Todd could. Izuku slowly rose to his feet, thoughts tumbling through his mind, scattering across each other. If he could throw like that- if the memories had come with skills- then…

Izuku took a deep breath, closing his eyes and trying to remember. What had Bruce taught him? How had he…a memory drifted across his mind. Stood on a rooftop, helmet discarded to leave his face open to the air, exchanging desperate blows with Batman, the style still rough and yet it was still…there…

Izuku opened his eyes, arms moving in swift motions, perfectly mimicking the motions, flowing through movements that he'd never practiced. His form was sloppy, he knew that, unrefined, poorly adapted for his shorter and slimmer frame, but it was there. It was there, skill lying at his fingertips and he let out a breathless laugh and spun around in excitement, almost knocking his pens off the desk again.

"Maybe I should try this somewhere else," he conceded, walking over to his wall and pulling the pencil free. It had only sunk a short way into the plaster, but still. Accurate. He carefully pinned the poster back in place, hoping that no-one would notice the hole now torn in it. Eh, nobody really came in here. It would be fine. Izuku started to tap again, drumming the pencil against his hand in thought. There was a question, he knew, a question that had haunted him all his life- or ever since he was four, at least. In a world where the majority of people had a Quirk- had some sort of superpower- he'd always asked if someone without could do the same. Could someone Quirkless, someone like him, become a Hero?

Jason Todd had been a hero, arguably. Nightwing. Batman. Green Arrow. They'd all been heroes, but not here. Not in this world. But Izuku knew that in ten months time the prestigious Hero High School, UA, would be taking on a fresh crop of students. If he wanted an answer to his question, he had ten months to train and prepare. He had ten months to…ten months wasn't very long. Izuku fell down onto his bed, enthusiasm briefly blunted. He wasn't even sure what the entrance exam to UA involved, all he knew was that there was one. He tapped the pencil against his leg, his leg jumping in time to the beat as he thought.

"Need to find that out. And then if I need to I can- don't have funds like Bruce but Jason could build some stuff, grappling hook, shouldn't be hard…and if I can't take it in…"

If he couldn't take his gear into the exam, then he might be in trouble. Also it was kind of messed up, because half the heroes in existence used some sort of support gear, but he'd take it as it came. And to know his next move, he needed to find out about the entrance exam. Izuku swung off his bed again, practically jumping onto his laptop. The Internet would have the answers he needed. The Internet didn't let people down. The Internet was a giving, if ruthless God.

Maybe he should start a cult. Could be fun. But afterwards. Or if he didn't get into U.A. Not until then.

The Internet was in a giving mood today, and offered him its bounty with only slight argument. He'd thought about it before, of course, practically every kid did if he guessed right, but it wasn't completely easy. Someone was deleting data, maybe? But thousands of kids took the exam every year, and it probably wasn't worth getting rid of all of the mentions of their exam. Someone had done a good job, though. Izuku had to put the pieces together, from the complaints about their Quirks being useless in the exam- someone who, from their earlier posts, could cause momentary blindness in any person who met their eyes- to boasts about being able to use highly destructive Quirks. Add to that the frequent use of robots in the Sports Festivals that UA liked to hold and the answer was clear enough.

"Combat with robots," Izuku concluded, leaning back in his chair, "Good at picking out the people who have powerful Quirks, as well as people who can adapt properly to weaker ones. Not a bad idea. Inherently biased, but I doubt UA's about to throw away everybody who doesn't have a combat Quirk, so…hmm. Robots must be easy to take down. I wonder if…they use the same ones for the Sports Festival…maybe I should take a closer look…"

He couldn't take any gear with him, which sucked but made sense. Someone with a technology Quirk could take in a fully armoured war-suit and demolish the whole place. Then again, was that any less fair than Kacchan being able to make explosions from his hands? Izuku didn't think so. Maybe he was biased, though, on account of he'd want to be the person in the suit. The Mark Eleven armour, now that would be an experience. Shame that Clark had destroyed it before it had ever been properly used.

Sad thoughts like that aside, if Izuku wanted to have a chance at anything he needed to get serious. Analysis was cute and all, but if he wanted to kill robots with his bare hands- and dear God did he want to kill robots with his bare hands- he'd need more muscle than, say, the average noodle. Given that right now he had less muscle than the average noodle, he'd better get to it. At least he had ten months, right? And maybe, just for fun, he could do a bit of gadgeteering. There was that beach-turned-scrapheap nearby, Dagobah he thought it was called, that might be a good place to scavenge something. And maybe there he could get some privacy and finally vent the scream of panic about finding himself host to the skills and memories of a vigilante who toed the line of villain that had been building since he woke up that morning.

Yeah. That would be a good idea.

There were a lot of things that Izuku was ashamed of. His inability to punch Kacchan in the goddamn face even when the other boy deserved it. His tendency to mutter and mumble whenever he did any sort of deep thinking. Deep down, even that he was Quirkless. That he was a burden. Yes, Izuku had a lot of things he was ashamed of. A therapist would have a field day. However, that wasn't the point.

Izuku Midoriya wasn't ashamed to say that once he got some privacy he screamed like a girl and collapsed onto the sand. He just needed…a minute. Maybe two. Just a little bit of time to process that…well, that yeah. He might actually be able to become a hero. It might not be an unattainable dream that he clung to in order to get through the drudgery of every day. So he was a little overwhelmed.

That said, he could have done without his landing and scream somehow dislodging a fridge from the top of a junk pile. It almost landed on him, in fact, and only the sort of roll that left his arms throbbing from the effort got him out of the way. He stood up, brushed the dirt off himself, looked around at the absolute mess of garbage all over the beach and said the first thing that came into his head.

"It's like being back in fuckin' Gotham."

He clapped his hands over his mouth a second later, absolutely mortified. That had been pure Jason Todd, even his accent had changed a fraction. That was…disconcerting.

"Memories have an actual effect, blending with mine," he muttered aloud, the words muffled through his fingers but they were only for him anyway, it didn't matter, "If I'm not careful I might react like Jason would to something. That could be a problem if I lose it near criminals like…like last night. Jason had gotten over killing every petty criminal he came across but maiming them was still possible."

Yeah. He'd need to keep an eye on that. Taking a baseball bat to the knees of half the muggers he came across might dissuade people from crime, but it wasn't exactly heroic.

"Easier to work within the system, at least at first. See how it goes…move from there…get the good gear, good suppliers, know your villains…"

Though Jason would probably have never admitted it, Izuku knew that he wouldn't have made it far without his time as Robin. Even the cliff notes version of Jason's life was enough to see that. Izuku sighed and sat down on the fridge, carefully looking over it first. Getting tetanus from a rusty nail would just be the punchline of the cosmic joke that his life had been so far. Looked like he'd be avoiding that for the moment though.

"In theory I shouldn't bother with the gear. I won't be able to use it in the exam. But if I pass, then I'll need to keep putting on a good show…UA's supposed to have high standards, so…better to practice with some of the gear I'm going to use. And it could be good exercise. And if I don't get into UA, then…"

Izuku didn't finish that thought, staying on the fridge and looking around. Part of him wanted to get started now, but the part of him that was…well, sensible…decided against it. Better to come back with old clothes, gloves, that sort of thing. Preferably avoid getting tetanus. Izuku sighed, bringing his legs up and scooting around on the fridge to look towards the sea. It was just about visible, waves lapping endlessly against a bulwark of discarded items. Junk, left behind by society, abandoned and unloved. Izuku bit his lip, clenching his fist until he felt his fingernails biting into skin.

He hated metaphors that applied to him.

"Full grappling harness, test four. Hope the line doesn't give this time…test three almost had me convinced to try a full test…" Izuku mumbled into the small recorder that he had found in a pile of junk- inside a broken microwave, if you would believe it- and fixed up. It wasn't amazing, but it was more convenient than a notepad. He sighed, turning a baleful eye on the gadget in his hand- a roughly put together mechanism that could fire the grappling dart at a frankly pathetic speed. It wasn't something that he would like to be flinging himself around the city on, but it would be good enough as proof of concept.

Or it would be if it worked. The harness that wrapped around his torso to carry his bodyweight had stayed intact on the seventh iteration, but three months of work had yet to produce decent results with the actual grappling gun. At least he'd had the sense to test it by trying to latch onto a broken fridge and drag it to him, rather than leaping off a roof and hoping it worked. Given that the harness had fallen into six different pieces upon firing the gun in his first test, that wouldn't have gone well.

"Standard test, firing into the fridge and resisting retraction. Issues in last test- penetration is poor due to equipment quality. Wire snapped as soon as resistance was offered."

That had been particularly unpleasant- Izuku still had a red mark on his forearm from the whipping impact of the wire. He should probably have invested in some sort of protective gear, but he could get that in his hero costume. No. He would get that in his hero costume. Positive thoughts.

"Positive thoughts," he mumbled, carefully aiming the grapple and squeezing the trigger. The gun itself was more like a block of metal than a gun, shaped to wrap around his fingers not unlike a set of knuckle-dusters, and the trigger lay in his palm. The mechanism gave under his grip and the dart whipped away, propelled by a small gas canister that was attached to the bottom of the gun. It wasn't comfortable and it wasn't…safe, exactly…but it was the best he could do. The dart flashed across the open space between Izuku and the fridge, sinking into the thin metal with a reassuringly solid clunk and he nodded.

"Alright. Dart deployment successful. Now for the retraction test."

He reached back with his left hand, pressing a button that sat on the harness near to his hip. The small crank located near the small of his back started up and Izuku braced himself in the sand, reaching up to wrap his left hand around his right. Better grip. In theory, the fridge should be dragged towards him- or he towards the fridge, since it weighed more.

In theory. In practice the last four tests had included one failure to fire, one failure to penetrate the metal and the disastrous wire breakage. Just a bad time overall, really. Maybe all the junk lying around here really did deserve to be thrown out. Izuku lifted his arm as the wire began to take the weight, keeping a hold on the gun. The wire ran to the harness around his torso too but keeping a hold on the grapple gun let him better control the direction of the pull. He grunted as the harness tightened, pulling around his torso- not that well balanced, but it would have to do. If he remembered rightly Bruce hadn't needed a harness anymore, but Izuku didn't have the resources to build a high-strength wire and powerful motor into a bat shaped device roughly the size of his hand.

In all fairness, he also wasn't capable of lifting his whole bodyweight off the ground with just one hand. Maybe in the future. The winch behind him whirred and creaked and Izuku gritted his teeth, digging his feet into the sand and resisting the pull. The fridge moved an inch. Izuku was just opening his mouth to whoop in triumph when the ancient hinges on the fridge finally gave way and the door came off.

"Ack!"

Izuku toppled over backwards, yelping as he hit the sand, loosing his grip on the grapple. He was dragged a few inches before he dug into the sound, grit and sand sticking and getting under his clothes, the fridge door being dragged towards him much faster than before. Luckily the winch wasn't powerful enough to turn the door into a missile, but still.

"That was embarrassing," he grumbled, picking himself up and tipping his head towards the recorder attached to his jacket, "But at least…test four, functional success. Winch worked but the fridge door came off, not sure if dart barbs or winch would have failed first. They're both due for it…might be time for a full field test, but I don't really want to risk it. Plus the dart isn't…Bruce had that smart grapple, but maybe adhesive would be better…Lexcorp was working on a variable adhesive before Luthor got killed, maybe I could recreate that, but I'd need a whole lab for that."

Izuku walked over to the fridge and turned the door over, carefully pushing the barbs back into the grappling dart and extracting it from the metal. It had taken almost three weeks to put together a set of barbs that would move enough to only lock in place after going through the metal, but it was functionally useless in a city environment even assuming they didn't fail. Wouldn't punch through brick after all. Personally he thought it was a bit weird anyway, to rely on the dart going into brick and sticking. Property damage. How had Bruce even managed it?

"Probably all that Wayne Industries tech that was too expensive for the public. Pockets that never empty would be real nice here," Izuku muttered, lifting the fridge door and moving it out of the way. He'd bulked up a little bit since inheriting Red Hood's memories, but not that much- he was only fifteen, after all. He'd managed to remember most of the training plan that Batman had devised for his Robins, but it had needed to be downgraded to account for not being a millionaire. Still, he had seven months left. Should be enough. So long as the robots in the exam weren't too hard to destroy, but he was fairly sure…he was fairly sure that one of the Sports Festivals about six years ago had used them. He thought he'd tracked down a video of it, so he had that to look forward to when he got home. He had a fresh notebook ready to write in and everything. But before that temporary nirvana could be reached, he had a few more things to do. There were whole sections of the beach that he hadn't ventured into in his search for raw materials, and he was fairly sure that one of them contained a lot of electronic goods- like, a great deal. A bounty. And if he was right, then he might be able to build a pair of stun knuckles. He'd only half-remembered the design, it had taken a lot of research to get to something that he thought would work, but the only way to find out was to build and test them. And there was no time like the present.

"Could get lost on here easily," Izuku mumbled, "Still not sure how it got this bad."

As he spoke he reached into an inside pocket of his hoody and pulled out a much folded piece of paper, opening it up. There was a hand-drawn map on it, made in pencil and much erased and remade as he tried to work out exactly where everything was on the beach. There was a whole section that was mostly abandoned cars. Cars. On a beach. Izuku still couldn't understand how getting a car halfway down a beach was easier than disposing of them properly. Still, they'd provided a lot of the materials for his grapple harness, since apparently people were happy to just leave all the engines inside, so he wasn't complaining too much.

"If I'm right, the place I'm looking for should be…alright. It looked like there was a lot of tv's and stuff there when I looked over the beach with binoculars, so I hope I'm right. Would be a waste of time otherwise…"

He was pretty sure it wouldn't be a waste of time. Maybe less useful than he hoped, depending on the quality of the materials he could find, but this whole place was a DIY wonderland. All sorts of free things, so long as you didn't mind the risk of tetanus.

"Something something good from bad," Izuku whispered, climbing over an abandoned wardrobe and squeezing down a narrow path. It was a little risky, but only a little. The stacks of crap here were older, more settled. Less likely to topple over.

"Really though, there's gotta be a scrapyard closer than this. Who takes the effort to climb up a mound of kitchen appliances and put a sink at the top? Unless it's people with a strength enhancing Quirk who've just thrown it?"

He paused to take a breath, staring over what he could see of the beach and being careful not to inhale too deeply- the smell wasn't too bad here, but sometimes it got awful. Dead animals, probably.

"You know, Izuku, you really need to make some friends. Talking to yourself all the time can't be healthy," he said quietly, sniffing, "Just a shame that it's too late for that."

Eleven years too late, probably. Maybe if he'd had a really good friend before he was diagnosed Quirkless they would have stuck with him. Then again, he'd always thought that Kacchan would be the best friend he'd ever have and look where that got him.

"If you really want to be a hero," Izuku mimicked, "Take a swan dive off the roof and hope you get a Quirk in the next life."

His fingers closed, gloves preventing his fingernails from lacerating his skin, teeth gritting as the familiar acid warmth of rage spread up his chest. Izuku hadn't really been that much of an angry person before- before Jason. Or at least he'd never noticed it.

Jason Todd existed in a permanent state of smouldering anger, ever present even at the best of times. Really, it was a wonder that he hadn't started killing people earlier. Izuku hadn't inherited all of it, but there were times- especially when Kacchan was being more of a dick than usual- that he found his thoughts taking a darker turn. Kacchan was tough, but a blow to the back of the head in a back alley…Izuku scrunched his eyes shut and shook his head, forcefully dispelling the image.

"Fuck that guy," he whispered, his accent harsher than normal as some of Jason bled through, "I'll be a hero whether he likes it or not."

Not that it would make much of a difference to Kacchan. Bastard had an ego the size of a planet. But it would definitely make Izuku happier. And if he was mostly driven by spite at this point, what of it? If he was going to drag someone out of a burning building, it hardly made a difference whether he did it out of altruism or just to prove someone wrong. Izuku sighed and started off again, picking his way through the ruins of a beautiful thing.

Seven months to go.

Some days, all Izuku wanted was to put a bullet through Katsuki Bakugo's big goddamn mouth. One of Red Hood's specials, the home-made bullets for big threats. One shot. It wouldn't even hurt. Some days, he'd trade every chance at a future in heroics just to get Bakugo to be quiet.

Some days, Izuku found it hard to keep his mouth shut. But no. Not yet. He'd have to grit his teeth and bear the boasting, the teasing, and one day, when he was a hero, he'd catch Kacchan in a back alley and knock his teeth out. Either that or he'd be the one member of the Batman family to actually get over his issues. Was it weird to think of himself as part of the Batman family? Probably, yeah, but he couldn't help it. Too much Jason. Either way, right now it didn't matter. Their teacher, a man possessed of a singular inability to keep his goddamn mouth shut, had once again brought up future prospects. When he'd done this seven months ago Izuku had been told to jump off a roof. He was kind of hoping that didn't happen again. Last time he'd been angry, but cowed by a flashy show of Bakugo's Quirk. This time, with all that excess rage from Jason- well, there was a decent chance that Kacchan would end up with a broken nose and fighting always looked bad on a high school application. Idly Izuku wondered if it might be worth it to sabotage Kacchan. Could be fun to watch him snap under pressure, but there was a good chance that it just wouldn't happen. Kacchan wasn't stupid.

Izuku's life would have been a lot simpler if he was. But no. Had to get a clever childhood friend turned bully. Still, it could be worse.

Izuku kept a note of every time he dreamed of being tied to a chair, beaten to within an inch of his life with a crowbar. The tally was currently at thirty-four. Christ, he needed therapy- or some medication. He'd probably prefer the second. He could sneak some to Kacchan, maybe it would get him to calm down. Probably better than the other method of calming him down that came to mind, anyway.

Izuku forced the thought of beating Kacchan with a crowbar out of his head and went back to paying attention to what his old friend was shrieking about. Oh, right. This was the Katsuki Bakugo 'I'm going to be the greatest Hero and you're only part of my back-story' speech, version three. There was a lot of cursing and a definite lack of specific names, but Izuku wasn't sure that Bakugo ever remembered names. He was just special that way. And by special Izuku did, in fact, mean that Bakugo was a raging dickhead.

"-And that's why you're nothing but extras in my story! You all hear me?"

God damn how long could one person go on for? He'd been talking for almost ten minutes. Izuku sighed, fully prepared to space out as Kacchan continued to rant, the useless teacher doing absolutely nothing to shut him up. He was rudely awakened from his pleasant daydream when a hand slammed onto the desk in front of him, fire bursting from under the palm and licking around the fingers. The rush of hot air washed over his face and Izuku blinked, looking up and meeting glaring crimson eyes.

"Are you listening to me, Deku?" Bakugo asked, his harsh voice dropping to a low rasp. Izuku met his gaze without blinking, focusing mostly on not ramming his fingers into Kacchan's eyes and ripping that look off of his face. He really needed to get a handle on this temper he'd inherited, or he'd lose it at the worst possible time. Still, he knew that Bakugo wanted an answer. He was that kind of person. Sometimes you could head him off by just agreeing with him, nudge him back into boasting about himself.

"Sorry, Kacchan. I can only hear so many rants about how insignificant this place is before they all sound the same."

Alright, he hadn't meant to say that. On the plus side, it seemed to strike Kacchan dumb so…silver linings? Nope, he was gonna get angry…angrier. Alright. Best way to neutralise Katsuki 'Kacchan' Bakugo if it came to it. Quirk was Explosion, sweated nitro-glycerine- or a chemical compound very similar, because the explosions didn't really act like high explosives, but that didn't matter- and could ignite it at will. Used his palms. Izuku still wasn't sure if Kacchan could only ignite blasts from his hands, but that was all he'd seen. Liked to attack directly, utilising talent for hand to hand combat and potent Quirk. Best way to stop him- redirect the blast. Blind with blow to nose, cause eyes to shut, shove instinctive attack away, kick the desk into his midriff and kick him unconscious before Kacchan knew what was going on.

Go on the run for assault. Find a gun and a red helmet, leather jacket. Start killing criminals. Publish an inflammatory manifesto online. Die in a badly thought-out shootout with police. Shit, he had his whole career as a failed revolutionary planned out.

It needed work, especially the ending, but sometimes life was like that.

Izuku kept his eyes on Bakugo and mentally gritted his teeth to take whatever the other boy was about to dish out.

The bell rang and Izuku grabbed his bag and bolted before Kacchan even realised something had happened. He had always been quick, and he made good use of it, sliding through the classroom door and sprinting down the corridor. The window at the end of the corridor was always open, and-

"Parkour skills don't fail me now!"

Izuku slid through the window, descending the building at an alarming rate via the use of tiny handholds in the brick and concrete facing. God he was glad that he'd practiced this, he'd be back at the beach before Kacchan even cleared the school. Alright, maybe today was an okay day after all.

Three months left until the exam.

The shock knuckles were an unmitigated success. Really, Izuku could cry over the fact that he couldn't take them into the Entrance Exam and demonstrate his genius to the world. In fact, he did cry over that. He was crying over it right now, because they were a thing of absolute beauty and he didn't regret building them for an instant. A little bulky, but they fitted over his hands much like the grapple gun, the battery pack sitting in his palm to grip and five slightly spiked points fitting perfectly over his knuckles. With this every punch he delivered would, in addition to having the extra force that knuckle-dusters always applied, send a jolt of electricity into his target. It wasn't very much- he'd tested it on himself, because he'd never really had a sense of self-preservation- but it was enough to numb the direct area of the blow. Any sort of prolonged fight with these babies on and anyone who didn't have a properly insulated costume was going to be feeling the effect. Izuku sniffed and wiped his eyes with a tissue, patting the gadget that sat on his desk.

"You're a good gadget," he told it, "Definitely my favourite."

"Um…Izuku?"

Izuku, remaining his normal composed and dignified self, yelped and lurched sideways in his chair, arms flailing around his head and crashing onto his carpet. His Mom yelped in exactly the same way, jumping in the air.

"Izuku!"

"I'm ok! I'm ok!" he called, having somehow slid halfway under his bed in panic. He most certainly wasn't going for his grapple gun, no sir, and he definitely hadn't tested the impact dart to check that it could shatter his window and bury itself in the tree across the street.

It has to be noted that since he'd inherited his memories he'd become something of a liar, even to himself. Izuku wriggled out from under the bed and sat up, pushing a hank of black-green hair out of his eyes and blinking at his Mom.

"Mom? You- you surprised me."

His Mom waved her hands, a concerned look painted on her kind features as he pulled himself to his feet. She immediately grabbed him, pulling at his jacket and brushing dust off his shoulders. Izuku reddened slightly but didn't protest as she fussed over him. It was nice. Familiar and comforting.

"Um…did you want something, Mom?"

"Oh! No, I just wanted to check on you, Izuku. You've been quiet recently. Are- are you still going to try the U.A. Entrance Exam?"

Well, at least she hadn't tried to beat around the bush. She let go of him and walked over to his desk, hands fluttering nervously around his gauntlets and the notepad. This was a different notepad, without any title. His own Hero notepad, with a single sketch on the open page: Red Hood, in all his glory. Helmet, jacket, armour, little notes pointing out his grapple harness and his shock knuckles. It was something to remember when he was in class, something to dream about when his gadgets were refusing to work. Something to aspire to. Something to become.

"U.A.? I…yeah. Yeah, Mom, I am. I want to- all my life, I've asked if I can become a Quirkless hero. Not number one, not the best, just…a hero. Everybody's said that I can't, but…I want to find out for myself, Mom."

"Oh, Izuku," she said softly, sniffling. She was a crier, Inko Midoriya. It was where Izuku got it from. He sniffled quietly himself, mumbling about being an empathetic crier as she latched onto him, squeezing him tightly and sobbing. They got in a decent weep for a couple of minutes before they wound down, ending up with Izuku back on his chair and his Mom on the bed, wiping her eyes on a tissue. Izuku smiled at her, still watery.

"Jeez, Mom, there's no need to cry," he said, voice wobbly. She gave him a shaky smile.

"I just…it's seeing you all grown up, honey. It's so…but I'm so worried, Izuku. You could get hurt."

Izuku looked down, rubbing his hands together.

"I know, Mom," he said quietly, "I don't want to get hurt, but…I want this, Mom. I've always wanted this."

"I know, Izuku," she said, blinking tears away, "I just worry. But you're really going to go to the exam…I hope you can make it, Izuku."

She looked up, watery eyes meeting his, and smiled gently.

"I hope you can be a Hero, Izuku."

Izuku coughed, looking down and cuffing at his eyes, tears soaking into his sleeve despite his smile.

"Thanks, Mom," he croaked. His Mom nodded silently, shuffling her feet on the carpet.

"So…what's that in your notebook? It's a bit different to your Mighty Boy jumpsuit design!"

Izuku pressed his hands over his face, mortified.

"Mom! I was eight!"

"And it was very cute," she said, beaming, "But this one looks very professional! Can you tell me about it?"

Izuku spun around on his chair a few times, hands still on his face and feet drawn off the floor but secretly delighted to be able to ramble to an actual person about his designs.

"Yep! I thought about what I'd do and realised that, well, I can't really be a hero out in the daylight…well I can but it wouldn't be best…flashy quirks are too important for PR and even if being Quirkless would make me an interest piece for a while I'd be sticking out so…but anyway being an Underground Hero is better, they usually work at night and off the streets. So I made a costume better for that! The vest, boots and gauntlets use a Kevlar composite, it's knife and bulletproof so it'll help keep me safe without being too bulky. Long sleeves and cargo pants so I can carry stuff, and the grapple harness lets me move about easily! The shock knuckles will let me punch harder, and the helmet can have all sorts of things…it's a gasmask, a thermal visor, a well-protected communicator, head protection, it can do so much!"

One of the things Izuku loved most about his Mom was how she could keep up with his rambling mumbles. She was nodding along with him, smiling indulgently, but there was a sort of relief in her eyes. Probably because he wasn't going to go out and punch things in a t-shirt, he thought. Her green eyes twinkled with mischief.

"And the leather jacket, Izuku?"

He dropped his head behind his arms, embarrassed again, and mumbled something. His Mom laughed, soft and soothing.

"What was that, Izuku?" she asked, obviously amused, and Izuku sighed.

"It's just for style, Mom."

Her laughter rang through the house and Izuku smiled. It was nice to see her happy.

One week until the Entrance Exam.

On the day of the Entrance Exam, Izuku Midoriya almost died before ever reaching U.A.

Okay, that was an exaggeration. He was on his way into the school when his caught his foot on a rock and stumbled, like an idiot, arms windmilling in an attempt to avoid planting his face into the concrete. He probably would have failed, to be honest, but he was an optimist at heart. Somehow. In the end, though, it hardly mattered: a hand touched him on the back and his face-first topple turned into a mid-air spin.

It was pretty fun, actually.

"Oh my gosh, are you alright? I thought you were going to fall! Sorry for using my Quirk on you without warning!"

Izuku turned slowly, ending up upside down and blinking at his saviour. She waved her hands around, bouncing slightly in her spot as he slowly rotated further.

"Oh, don't worry about it! I was gonna die anyway, so this is nicer!"

God damnit Jason. Of all the times for Red Hood's voice to come out of Izuku's mouth-

The girl laughed. Izuku retracted every bad thing he'd ever said about Jason.

"Oh that's good! If you'll just let me-"

She reached across and turned him the right way up with alarmingly practiced ease, pointing his feet towards the ground before stepping back and pressing her fingers together.

"Release!"

The strange weightlessness vanished and Izuku landed on his feet, maintaining his balance through a great deal of practice in parkour- and maybe using his grapple harness on abandoned buildings, but he'd never admit that. His Mom would kill him.

"Thanks," he said, a blush starting to creep across his cheeks because he'dnevertalkedtoagirlbefore and come on Jason, give me that smoothness and oh yeah that was Dick not Jason but at least Jason had confidence. The girl waved her hands, beaming.

"Oh, it's no problem! It would have been bad luck to fall before the exam! Good luck, I'll see you inside!"

Izuku blinked as she positively sprinted off. What a nice girl, he absently thought as he followed, making his way through the school and following the signs until he reached the hall where the paper portion of the exams were held. Well, this probably wouldn't be the hardest part of today.

For once Izuku's tempting fate wasn't replied to with a kick in the face. The paper exam was tough, but not that hard, and he was pretty confident that he'd passed. After a half-hour break to get a drink and visit the bathroom he retraced his steps, his heart squirming with nerves as he walked through another set of doors and into something that he thought resembled a university lecture hall more than anything else. He found the whiteboard set up next to the door with a seating plan on it, locating his name and finding his seat. About halfway up, which wasn't too bad. Next to Kacchan, which was terrible. Great. Well, he'd cheated death once today. Once more couldn't hurt.

"What are you doing here, fuckin' Deku?" Kacchan rasped at him. Izuku squeezed his fist closed, forcing a smile onto his face.

"Nice to see you too, Kacchan."

"Tcheh," Kacchan growled, but he didn't make a scene. Not here. Too many unknowns, Izuku thought. Kacchan was too smart to do anything without scoping out the situation, and getting thrown out of the U.A. exam for being a shithead would put a real crimp in his ambitions. Izuku took his seat, doing his best to relax into his seat and absolutely failing, limbs tense. He leaned back as best he could and concentrated on breathing, slow inhalations and exhalations as he waited. He didn't need to wait long: the auditorium doors burst open with an echoing slam. Half the attendees almost came out of their seats, probably most of the way to activating their Quirks, and Izuku grinned. Well, it was supposed to be a grin. Probably looked more like a death rictus.

"Well helllloooooooo little listeners!" the announcer bellowed, projecting his voice throughout the auditorium as he sprang onto the podium. Izuku lost his grin as he quivered in barely repressed fanboy joy, clasping his hands over his mouth to hold in a shriek of excitement.

"Oh my god it's the Voice Hero Present Mic, I love his radio show, all the teachers here are Pro Heroes and it's so cool that-"

Izuku squeaked quietly, swallowing the rest of his rant and pressing his lips shut. Try not to draw attention. Also Bakugo might go absolutely off his nut if Izuku kept mumbling and while seeing Bakugo getting thrown out for being a frothing lunatic might be incredibly cathartic it would also probably involve bodily harm to Izuku, and he wanted to pass this thing.

"Can I get a YEAH?!" Present Mic screamed. The silence that answered was absolutely resounding. Izuku throttled an inappropriate laugh, but Present Mic seemed completely unphased.

"Alright! No reason to hold back here, let's get down to business! The U! A! PRACTICAL EXAM!"

Once again, there were no cheers. Once again, Present Mic didn't care.

"The Practical Exam is very simple! You applicants! One replica city! Ten minutes! And a HORDE OF KILLER ROBOTS!"

Goddamn this man was loud. Then again the dude had a Quirk that gave him a loud as hell voice. Embracing that by being loud and proud and the punk rocker aesthetic was a real flex, as Jason had once heard Tim say. Good for Present Mic.

"Now then," Present Mic picked back up, "All the deets are on your information cards, but I'll go over them anyway. You'll all go out to replica cities in the training grounds, and you'll have ten minutes to destroy- or disable, that's important- as many of the robots there as you can! There's three kinds of robots, worth one, two or three points! The more points, the more dangerous, so let's not get overextended here! Oh, and no attacking other examinees- we don't roll with here at U.A., you get me?"

Robots. Called it, Izuku thought, managing to keep his internal monologue internal for once. It was a good time, really. And if the robots were like the ones he'd seen used in the Sports Festival footage- and the silhouettes on the wide screen behind Present Mic looked very similar- then they had weaknesses. Not obvious, but there were places where someone could reach through and yank the wiring out, and they were slow enough for it to be a feasible method of attack. Maybe he would be able to do this after all.

Would be much easier with his grapple harness and a gun though. Post up on a high building and start shooting. How many robots could he get then? Enough to give Bakugo an aneurysm, probably. What a cheery thought. Mic clapped his hands together, but was interrupted by an examinee standing up, a spotlight flicking onto him. Automatic, probably.

"Excuse me, sir, I have a question."

Izuku had never heard something sound less like a question in his life. Present Mic pointed at him.

"Shoot, little listener!"

The examinee- who was about six feet tall and looked roughly as broad from where Izuku was standing, making Mic's epithet completely unsuitable- held up his information card.

"There are four types of robots on this information card, not three! With all due respect, if this is an error then it is shameful! We are all exemplary students who have come here to earn a chance to attend a prestigious Hero Academy, and better standards should be expected!"

"What a fucking square," Bakugo growled next to Izuku, who gave him a side-eyed glance. Bakugo didn't seem about to explode, though. Good. Izuku wasn't sure he'd get out of the blast zone in time. Mic beamed and held out two thumbs-up.

"Alright alright alright, Examinee number 7111, well spotted! The fourth villain type is worth…ZERO POINTS! Think of it more as an obstacle than something to be defeated, you read me? There'll be one in every battle centre, but there ain't no point in defeating it even if you can, so I wouldn't bother trying!"

The tall examinee- 7111, was it- bowed sharply.

"I see. Thank you," he declared, retaking his seat. Mic grinned toothily up at them.

"No problems my dude! Alright then kiddos, that's my part done so let me lay some advice on you: the general Napoleon Bonaparte once said, 'A true hero is someone who overcomes lifes misfortunes'! Let's embody that here, my guys, and hear a Go Beyond…Plus Ultra!"

He would probably have gotten a better response to the U.A. motto in a graveyard, Izuku thought as they all started to shuffle up. Everyone was nervous, on edge, and why not? There was only the rest of their lives at stake. Sure there were other Hero schools, but U.A. had the prestige. If Izuku remembered rightly, something like eight of the current top ten ranked Heroes had attended U.A. All Might, the Symbol of Peace. Endeavour, relentlessly hard working, most incidents resolved. And Best Jeanist, number three, eight times winner of the Best Jeanist fashion award.

Yeah, Izuku didn't really get that last one. But it was cool anyway. But anyway. A Zero Pointer, huh? That was interesting. Was it really there just to see who could stay on target and resist showing off, or was there something else behind it? Either way…all he could do was wait and see. He glanced down at his information card, noted the training ground he'd be sent to, and sneaked a peek at Kacchan's in the crush. Different grounds. Probably to prevent people from the same school from working together, but in this case it just meant he wouldn't be dealing with an unstable lunatic with bomb hands.

Silver linings, silver linings.

The bus ride was short enough, and Izuku got off inside the crowd, avoiding attention as best as he could. The gate to the training ground was…enormous. Was Bruce Wayne funding this place? Nah. Even Bruce wouldn't go so wild as to provide a whole fake city for people to trash. Seemed a bit excessive to Izuku, but he didn't have a powerful Quirk to go wild with. He chewed on a knuckle to silence any mumbles as he strategized.

"Better to break away from the pack…they'll draw in the robots if they're moving together and causing a ruckus, so if I move away I can jump them one at a time…ten minutes…don't know how many robots I need to take out, but…hey that guy has support gear, now I'm just insulted…"

Izuku let his mumbling trail off, swallowing it in an attempt to quiet his hammering heart. His blood felt cold with adrenaline, hands trembling with anticipation and chills running up his spine. He looked through the crowd in an attempt to distract himself, spotting the girl who had helped him earlier. She looked nervous, hand tapping at her mouth, so Izuku slid through the crowd. He could read people well enough to guess that she'd probably welcome some distraction, and he definitely would.

"Hey," he said, making sure to come into her line of sight before speaking. She beamed at him, wide brown eyes crinkling at the corners and brown hair bouncing as she nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh! Hey, it's you- the green boy from this morning!"

Well, he'd been called worse over his lifetime.

"You can call me that if you like- but my name's Izuku Midoriya."

Thank you, Jason. Of all times for his confidence when talking to people to come through, it would be now. He would have really ruined his image if he'd been too tongue tied to speak. The girl nodded.

"I'm Ochaco Uraraka, nice to meet you!"

Izuku smiled.

"Nice to meet you. Nervous?"

Uraraka bounced a little, fingers fluttering around her mouth.

"Yeah. It's just so…so big, you know? Are you?"

Izuku looked around, smiling, before leaning in.

"I'm absolutely terrified," he told her, still smiling. She giggled and he leaned back, hands still tucked in his pockets.

"You'll do great," he told her, trying for the best pep talk he could manage, "I've only known you for five minutes and you stopped me from smearing myself on the pavement, so I think you're all good!"

She had a pretty adorable blush, really. Thank God for those memories. He'd probably be dead without them, but at least-

"Alright you guys!" Present Mic hollered, standing on the gate, "It's time to go, go, go!"

There was an instant where nobody knew what the hell to do and then Mic opened his mouth again.

"There's no countdowns in real life, you're wasting time so LET'S! GET! MOVING!"

Izuku got moving.

He sprinted through the gate with a pack of examinees in tow, hitting the main road through the city. There were already a swarm of robots there- one pointers with single wheels and two massive arms, and the insectile two pointers. The tracked three-pointers were nowhere to be seen, but for now that was fine by him. Izuku met the first one-pointer at a sprint, feinting right and then juking left, dodging a down-swinging claw and jumping onto the robot, ramming his right hand into the gap between its chest and long neck and wrenching out a handful of wires. He jumped away as the robot went limp and collapsed, rolling to his feet. The rest had poured past, a whole smorgasbord of Quirks being employed, and Izuku left them to it. The buildings were real, so he could go through there and Izuku yelped as the wall gave way, a tracked and hulking three-pointer crashing through with murderous intent.

Okay, this was pretty intense. Izuku ducked under a swing of a clawed hand, ducking behind the robot and- there was a big old off button on the back of its neck. Well, that was a waste of planning, even if it made it easier. He slapped the button, grinning as it powered down.

"Four points. That's not bad- woah!"

Izuku fell backwards off the robot as a laser beamed out, bisecting the robot and almost hitting him in the head. The boy who had fired it- the one with support gear Izuku had noticed earlier, with a wide belt around his stomach- posed dramatically.

"You make an excellent bait for my laser, mon ami! Au revoir!"

What a charmer. Izuku kinda liked him already, despite his…you know, recklessness. Huh. Apparently Jason came through a lot more strongly when in combat. Izuku grinned, blood pumping. Well, that was alright with him.

"Alright, Izuku. Let's go be a goddamn Hero."

He sprinted through the building the three-pointer had come from, hitting the back alleys. He'd been right: robots were converging on the main road as the din of combat increased, and he could get the drop on them as he went. They didn't all have the centrally located off-button- there were at least three actual variants of two-pointer, but none of them were fast or agile enough to catch him. The test was biased for destructive Quirks, but not that badly- someone with decent physical skills could keep up. Jason or Bruce would have demolished every robot in the city without breaking a sweat. Not as fit- he was only fifteen, after all- Izuku was sweating by seven minutes in, but he'd racked up some good points- in addition to his four points at the entrance he'd gotten seven one pointers, five two pointers and two more three pointers. That made, what, twenty-seven points? He could work with that. He'd heard the big guy who interrupted Present Mic shout that he'd got forty-five, but he had a Quirk. And, more importantly, he was throwing hands in the main road alongside everyone else. Izuku was jumping robots in back alleys. Really, he was in his element.

"Threeeeee minutes remaining, examines! Watch out for that zero-pointer!" Present Mic roared, probably over an intercom. Maybe just with his natural volume. What a guy.

Izuku retracted his admiration as the whole city shook.

"What the hell, man?" he whispered. There was a whole lot of screaming going on, so he headed back towards the main road at full speed. A three-pointer got in his way, levelling its gatling arm and firing a spray of rubber bullets towards him. Izuku went into a forward roll, diving under the attack and popping to his feet in its face, too close for the gun. He reached up, ramming his arm into the gap under its chin- scratched his arm, careless- and tore out a handful of wires. It went limp and he ducked around it, slapping the off button near the tracks for good measure. Second variant of three pointer, though he'd only seen two so far. Interesting. Less variation in the bigger robots. He ducked through a hole in a building, ran across the ground floor and got back onto the main street. The whole city was shaking with impacts- the zero-pointer? There was dramatic and then there was overkill. Izuku vaulted through a shattered window, fighting the urge to get to higher ground and take a peek at what was happening, landing next to a robot that was levelling its arm at another examinee. He ducked around it, grabbing the arm and shoving it out of line, the low-powered laser blast missing the examinee- the boy with the support gear from earlier. Izuku threw him a wave, kicking the off button.

"You make excellent bait, mon ami," he parroted, grinning. The boy gave him a quick smile, still running, and Izuku turned to see what exactly everyone was running from.

There was an absolutely enormous robot stomping through the streets towards them.

"Huh," Izuku said, not ashamed to admit that he really, really missed his guns right now. No, not his guns. Jason's guns. But guns, the guns, the guns that were loaded with anti-meta high explosive rounds in case of emergency. Be real comforting right now. The examinees were sprinting away from the robot in a straight line, having all apparently gone to the Prometheus school of running away from things. Izuku was about to duck back into the building and get away that way when he saw a familiar figure, closer to the robot, stumbling. Uraraka. And there was a building just behind her that the zero-pointer was about to plough right through.

"Always gotta be the hero, don't you," Izuku mumbled, even as he hit a sprint towards the zero-pointer and, more importantly, the girl. Uraraka had stumbled again, tiredness must be catching up to her, Izuku heard people yelling about Quirks and how insane he must be as he swung to his left, curving to approach Uraraka from her right at full speed. The robot rammed through the building, completely unconcerned with things like collateral damage and property costs. Half the building fell away. Uraraka looked up, her mouth opening in a silent gasp and Izuku dived, tackling her out of the way.

They both went rolling across the ground, hitting the door of the building right next to Uraraka and crashing through in a tangle of limbs, Izuku yelping as an elbow found his ribs. He disentangled himself mid-roll, shoving Uraraka further away, and half the roof fell in. Uraraka avoided all of it. Izuku only avoided most of it.

A chunk caught him across the shoulder, driving his face into the ground as it glanced away- Izuku tasted blood- his vision went white as something landed hard on his leg and his ankle crunched under it.

"Ffffffffuck!" he hissed, starting at a yelp and dragging it down to a snarling rumble. The robot was still out there and he was here, pinned on his stomach, with a bitten tongue and a viciously aching shoulder. Izuku spat blood on the ground and focused on not paying attention to his ankle.

"Oh my God, are you alright?" Uraraka whispered, slowly pushing herself upright by the sound of it. Izuku tried to drag his leg free of the debris and almost passed out.

"I'm still not dead, so that's a start," he managed, despite the agony currently shooting up his leg, "I don't suppose you could get the concrete off? Pretty sure my ankle is broken but I'd prefer sitting here bleeding to lying here bleeding. If you can't don't worry. Pretty sure U.A. won't let us die."

Actually, that was a concern. U.A. had a colossal amount of influence. Would they be capable of covering up a death in an Entrance Exam? Was the whole Hero system rotten? Maybe he should have just gone vigilante. The Revolutionary Plan was at version three, although it still ended in a fatal police shootout. Really needed to work on that.

"Is the robot still there?" he whispered, "Don't want to draw attention."

There was a scuffling and a face came into his line of sight- Uraraka, scuffed and streaked with dirt. She looked worried- probably because he was slightly crushed, if he had to guess.

"It's moving on. I can- I can get the rubble off you. My Quirk."

"Right. Your Quirk," Izuku rambled, trying to distract himself from the pain, "It's telekinesis? No. Not that. You moved me physically, so it can't be. Lifting. Makes things lift?"

"It takes gravity away from things I touch," Uraraka explained, carefully moving around him. He felt the weight on his leg lift and hissed, slowly rolling over. He didn't really want to look at his ankle, because he knew that it was going to look bad, but he probably had to.

Yeah. Yeah, that was a lot of blood, but he couldn't see bone. Sharp part of the concrete had gashed his shin, he thought. Broken ankle as well though. Izuku slowly rolled over, clenching his teeth to keep the scream in as his ankle moved, until he could sit straight, taking deep breaths. The pain ran up his leg, churning nausea into his gut.

"That's a really cool Quirk, Uraraka," he said, watching as she moved the floating rubble away and pressed her fingers together. Five-point activation, probably. She looked ill, so maybe that was a side-effect? Lot of Quirks had those. Then again, it could also be that the bottom part of his left leg was currently bleeding all over the place. Izuku moved his arm, wincing at the bruise on his shoulder, but it wasn't too bad. Just his leg, then. He might have to ask Uraraka to help him limp out. He closed his eyes, counting up in his mind. Thirty-two points. That might be enough.

"Aaaaand that's that, examinees! Time! Is! Up!"

Looked like it would have to be enough. Not that he could have gotten more points anyway. If it had been an arm out of commission, maybe, but not with a leg gone. Well, not gone. Still there. But he couldn't have gotten one of those fancy regenerating Quirks or something? No. No he could not.

"Um…are you alright? You're sort of…mumbling." Uraraka said. Izuku turned his head to her, snapping out of his daze long enough to feel the absolute embarrassment that suffused him.

"Oh…um…yeah. I'm sorta…high on adrenaline I guess?"

Wow. What an awful excuse. Uraraka didn't seem to doubt him that much though, which was just great. What a wonderful person.

"Did I say that out loud?" he asked, wondering if he'd gotten himself into trouble. He needed a voice-filtering mask or something. Alternately, of course, he could try not getting hurt and therefore avoiding being drugged on pain. Uraraka waved her hands, blushing.

"No, no it's fine! I just- hang on there's a nurse coming. Over here!"

Izuku pinched his eyes shut and folded his arm across his face, hoping that he wouldn't just combust from embarrassment. Or actually, maybe he should hope that he did. It would spare him a lot of trouble. Uraraka had leaned out of the door and waved someone over, a short woman in a hero costume that had some similarity to a nurses outfit. Izuku heard someone whisper that it was the Youthful Heroine, Recovery Girl. The heroine looked seventy at least, but Izuku didn't judge. Maybe she was young at heart.

"Oh dear. A broken ankle, dear?" Recovery Girl asked. Izuku shrugged.

"I think so, yeah."

He might have been supressing a squeal of fanboy enthusiasm. Recovery Girl was just so, so cool. Healing powers were great. All that said, Izuku absolutely flinched as Recovery Girl leaned forwards, her lips extending like a nightmare proboscis. The kiss she pressed against his forehead was dry and papery and Izuku winced, feeling energy leeching out of him. It was a bizarre feeling, his skin knitting back together and his bone cracking back into place, and his first attempt to get up completely failed. Recovery Girl clucked softly.

"My Quirk takes a lot of energy out of the person being healed, dear. Here. Have some gummies, they're high energy."

Izuku blinked at her, taking the handful of brightly coloured sweets.

"Um, thank you?"

Recovery Girl beamed at him.

"Oh, no problem young man. There are always a few injuries at the exams. Go on now, home you go."

Izuku slowly pulled himself to his feet as Recovery Girl headed away, surprisingly quickly for someone of her age. He popped a gummy into his mouth, chewing absently. It was a bit sour for his liking but could be worse. He looked around, seeing that Uraraka was shifting from foot to foot, looking nervous. He rubbed the back of his head, tousling his hair in his own nervous movement.

"I, uh, I guess we should head out then?"

Uraraka nodded.

"Yeah. Probably, yeah."

The two of them left the training ground in silence, walking alongside each other. Izuku distracted himself by thinking about the exam, keeping his mumbling in check via steady application of gummies to his mouth. Beside him Uraraka was silent. He guessed that it made sense. There were some situations that just…talking would cheapen the experience. They reached the exit and Izuku turned to her, offering a smile despite the blush that crawled up his skin.

"Hey, Uraraka…I guess this is where we part ways, right? But I'll look forwards to seeing you again when term starts."

She blinked at him, the perpetual blush that reddened her cheeks deepening before her usual expression- one that was kinda cute, if Izuku was honest- turned into an absolutely terrifying look of determination. Izuku would probably be seeing it in his nightmares, it was simply so committed. It might even make a nice change from the whole tied to a chair and beaten with a crowbar thing.

"Yeah!" Uraraka snapped, her fist clenched in front of her face, eyebrows drawn down in a fearsome glare, "I'll see you then, Midoriya! Don't let me down!"

And then she was gone, turning and sprinting away into the crowd and leaving Izuku to his increasing fear and confusion. Was this what making friends was like? He really, really hoped not.

Izuku spent the next two weeks waiting calmly and patiently for his U.A. results to arrive. He had meditated, he had considered and he had found inner peace: whether he passed or not, he would be satisfied with the result. He had done his best, and he had no regrets.

As noted before, Izuku Midoriya was a goddamn liar, even to himself. Especially to himself. More truthfully, he had been a bundle of nerves so terrible that his Mom, suffering from empathetic nerves, had sent him out of the house with instructions to play around with his grapple harness and relax. It had only been three days since the exam.

Izuku had spent an hour crying on the beach before regaining something that vaguely resembled composure and going back to tinkering with his harness. He was still quite suspect of the wires, but in theory it should now hold twice his bodyweight and reel him in quite quickly. In practice…he didn't really want to test it. But at least he'd calmed down a little bit, so he found himself a relatively comfortable and odour free place and took a seat. From here he could see the ocean, endless waves washing onto the trash-laden sands. It was soothing, oddly enough, as though the very presence of the ocean reminded him that it was never the end. Some things couldn't be halted by human pettiness, Izuku mused as he cracked open his notebook, the grapple harness still fastened around himself. No real need to take it off, all he was doing was looking over his notes. The costume design for Red Hood was still there, of course, one page after his grapple harness and one before the shock knuckles, but the page he flipped to was closer to the centre, past theoretical gear designs that he'd need a fully equipped workshop and a lot of trial and error to complete. No, the page he was looking for held something near and dear to his heart: all he could remember of the formula and method for making Wayne-Luthor Tech Suppressive Foam.

Suppressive Foam had been fairly new in Jason's universe, only being rolled out to police units the year before Clark had retaken power following Braniac's invasion, but it had been long enough for Jason to become enamoured with it. It was temperature resistant, so it couldn't be melted by most metas. It was breathable, so there was no chance of suffocation. And it expanded at an incredible rate, making it extremely good at pinning people down. For Jason, attempting to tone down the amount of killing he did, it had been a godsend. No need to kill a crook when you could stick him to the wall with a few foam bullets and put the fear of God into him, and if Izuku could remember how to make it it would level the playing field a lot against Quirks. The problem was that, well, he couldn't quite remember how to make it. He'd ordered a home chemistry set, so he could do some experimentation with a much weaker version of the adhesive, but there was no guarantee…

"And then the grapple gun, if I can find out the formula…I know that Bruce had a prototype, adhesive on the grapple that became inert when an electrical shock ran through it, he was too paranoid to use it but I could…much better…" Izuku mumbled, feeling his anxiety fade away as he wrote and thought, his heartrate slowing down again, a small smile tugging at the edges of his lips. Maybe life wasn't so bad. Maybe he was on the road to finding inner peace.

"Inner peace is a lie," Izuku moaned, collapsed in his living room with his face buried in the carpet. His Mom fluttered around the room- Izuku could tell that she was waving her arms in excitement, even without seeing her. She was babbling almost as quickly as he did, although it was with excitement as well as nerves.

The letter containing his U.A. results sat on the table, innocent and innocuous. It might as well have been a nail bomb. Izuku tried to push himself up, but the fear induced adrenaline spreading out from his chest left his arms shaking and he collapsed with a soft woof of air, rolling over and whining. He might have laid there for longer, but with his Mom on the verge of asphyxiating from her rush he really needed to get this over and done with. More like a slug than a person, Izuku dragged himself over to the sofa and picked up the letter, completely unready to face his doom.

"I'm sure that I passed the written exam even if only barely so it's all on the practical, I know I got a decent number of points compared to the others but I don't know how many points are needed, it's one in three hundred people who get in and they all had such good Quirks and all the robots and I got hurt at the end and I don't know if-"

"Izuku!" his Mom wailed and Izuku clamped his mouth shut, teeth pinching his bottom lip. He reached out with a trembling hand and pulled open the letter, tipping the small disk contained within onto the table. He and his Mom both froze, staring at it as it buzzed softly before lighting up the whole room.

"I AM HERE…AS A HOLOGRAM!" boomed the holographic representation of All Might, the enormous man looking slightly ridiculous in a yellow pin-stripe suit, his famous grin taking up most of his face. All Might, the Number One ranked Hero in Japan. All Might, perhaps the greatest Hero in the world, golden haired and square jawed and everything young Heroes aspired to be. The Hero held out a thumbs up, beaming.

"Izuku Midoriya! You passed the written test! And in the practical exam you scored…thirty-two points! A respectable score Young Midoriya, but not enough to get you into the Hero Course alone! However…what sort of Hero school would we be if we awarded points only for destruction?"

Izuku almost got a broken neck from the mood whiplash, nervous excitement turning into crushing disappointment into overwhelming, suffocating anticipation.

"No, in the Entrance Exam there was another point system…Hero Points! Awarded for rescues and aiding your fellow examinees! And with those you received…fifteen Hero Points, giving you a total of forty-seven points! And that, Young Midoriya, is enough to place you at number eighteen in the total rankings! Allow me to be the first to congratulate you, and say to you…welcome, Young Midoriya, to YOUR HERO ACADEMIA!"

Izuku did the only reasonable thing he could think of: he fainted from happiness.