So, Battlesny... E.N.D is most definitely the friendships we discarded along the way xD Where did I drop this off last anyway? I don't even remember anymore. This chapter took the longest for me to write, I think. Over a month and a half. Also,

Alternative Title- Respect All Might!

Seriously, the fandom don't give him the respect he deserves at all.

Note- Write that AM Vs AFO on the Moon thing soon. It is an omake. it will happen. When? who the hell knows? Not me! Someone among y'all better sacrifice a goat or a chicken or something if you want it anytime soon.

Thanks for reading! Here's where you can bug me and motivate me to write! UNITED INSURANCE OF SMASH- /cuYSXesV5j

Mock on, mock on, Voltaire, Rousseau;
Mock on, mock on; 'tis all in vain!
You throw the sand against the wind,
And the wind blows it back again.
And every sand becomes a gem
Reflected in the beams divine;
Blown back they blind the mocking eye,
But still in Israel's paths they shine.

The Atoms of Democritus
And Newton's Particles of Light
Are sands upon the Red Sea shore,
Where Israel's tents do shine so bright.

Aizawa Shouta had mixed feelings on the first day of the school year. On the one hand, he met his new batch of little bright-eyed angels to give him hope.

For the innocence and naivete of future generations, and despair at the prospect of making decent heroes out of them. Of course, the thought of testing them all for potential did bring a smile on Shouta's face.

And of course, he hadn't had to listen to the overly loud noise of Mic's Support Equipment tuning itself first thing in the morning. He loved his best friend and roommate, he really did, but seriously, he had about eight hours of uninterrupted sleep over the last week.

If Hizashi found himself hanging off the fifth floor of a building on U.A with no particular idea how he had gotten there with only a thin strip of cloth between himself and the soft, warm embrace of the earth below him sometime within the next week, Shouta supposed it would drastically improve his mood.

Shouta made a note of his idea in his schedule and sighed softly to himself before wrapping himself up in his Stealth Infiltration Gear (also known as his garishly yellow sleeping bag with several modifications made by Nezu himself at the expense of several favours) and entered his classroom.

Shouta supposed that he could be dreaming, because what he was seeing hardly made any sense at all. For one, there was a boy with viridian hair that seemed to glow with an inner fire, wearing his school jacket over his shoulders like he was too warm, a smile on his face that immediately had Shouta peg him as a troublemaker admiring himself in a small mirror that very clearly did not belong to him.

For another, everyone in the class was already seated but for the aforementioned green idiot. Shouta supposed he could cut the kids some slack for once. Even he would be hard pressed to notice someone entering a room when there was such a… spectacle going on.

Of course, that was only when he was off-duty, heavily sleep deprived, and had Hizashi chattering in his ear about some nonsense or the other. Shouta sighed deeply to himself, slipped out of his Stealth Infiltration Gear, eyed the green haired kid to get his rough measurements and nailed him in the eye with an appropriately sized P.E Uniform.

"None of you seem to realise that your teacher has already entered the class even after fifteen seconds have passed. Truly an abysmal performance by those who are the best candidates to be the heroes of the next generation. You have seven minutes. You may find me outside on the grounds."

Before Shouta got back into his SIG to slither his way to the grounds, he remembered that he forgot to introduce himself, before sighing deeply, cursing the name of all that was rational and slithering towards the grounds.

When they all popped up, he made a point to introduce himself properly. It would be the very height of irrationality for his students to not know the name by which they should associate hell with, after all.

Shouta estimated an ETA to the training grounds to be four minutes. He may have calculated the same after accounting for how much he was dragging his feet along the way, as well as the minor detour in his route to grab some more triple-espresso coffee from the Ground Floor coffee maker, made by Maijima for all people on campus.

Although, Shouta had been in charge of finding the ideal place to install the thing, and they were all coincidentally places Shouta would walk past on the daily. It was a cold day in Hell before Shouta shared his coffee.

He didn't know what kind of black magic Maijima worked in the creation of those machines, but they made the second best coffee he had ever tasted. Shouta, when he finally got to the machine, felt the jitters running up his extremities telling him exactly how deprived he was of his lifeblood.

Shouta despaired at the thought of what needed to be done for his perfect morning coffee, when he found the cup filled with quadruple-espresso coffee, black as hell, bitter as his tongue, and piping hot. Just how he liked it.

That would have been the perfect start to the day. Shouta would have thought it to be a favour from Hizashi or Nemuri to help him through this very hard day of not-immediate expulsion of twenty students, but he could see an… actually great drawing of his newest colleague made, doubtless, by said colleague himself that left no doubt as to who exactly was it that did him such favour.

The thought almost made him want to not drink the coffee. Almost. But Shouta valued his coffee more than he disliked having to acknowledge the shining symbol of all that was good in humanity.

Shouta almost sighed at the thought. It was the second time in seven minutes that he had felt the sudden urge to sigh. The first had been the absolute pandemonium of the green-haired boy had been striking up in the class.

It would have been absolutely impossible for Shouta to calm the class down in any quick order so he did the rational thing. He dumped out the twenty uniforms he had brought with him within his sleeping bag SIG with immediate instructions to the students to book it.

He made it to the training ground to the front of the building and felt the immediate urge to sigh being inflicted upon him once more. This would be one hell of a year, he just knew it.

Before him was the biggest Problem Child he ever had, and probably would have the displeasure of teaching.

The kid had brilliant viridian hair and was lean, almost unhealthily so if not for the fact that he was very clearly muscled. Shouta would have honestly been impressed by the fact. The kid's musculature was well-balanced, uncannily so, to the point that it had to have been the impact of his Quirk.

Shouta hadn't really bothered to see any of his the kids' files to prevent bias, but the green one was an exception. His, well, her performance in the entrance exam and the fascination All Might had with her had been enough for him to actually learn her name.

Only to learn that she had been a boy as of not even fifteen minutes before he saw her. Maybe even five. Hizashi had mentioned seeing an especially feisty green-haired boy in the orientations to him in passing, maybe that would turn out to be him.

Shouta hadn't really bothered to check further. He had known Quirks that were weirder. A Quirk that required a shift to the opposing gender in order to properly activate? It was up there, definitely, but it most definitely wasn't amongst his top seven.

Shouta had seen weird in his tenure as a hero that refused to properly acknowledge the existence of PR while also only really working in the witching hour.

Shouta paid attention to the kid in front of him. Cocky was his first impression, he'd even go as far as to call him dangerously arrogant, but then when a floating P.E uniform next to the kid talked to him, Shouta could see the complete one-eighty being pulled in front of him.

It almost gave him whiplash, to see the kid that he would call the farthest from being a proper Hero acting like Thirteen. He almost couldn't make heads or tails of the situation before he realised that hormones were a thing that teenagers dealt with.

Shouta never had to deal with such nonsense in his highschool career. He stopped his brain from being so irrational by drowning out all such tendencies in caffeine.

The solution had been super-effective. It worked out for him to that very day.

Shouta sighed again when he saw all the kids come out to the grounds just shy of the nine-minute mark.

Whether he sighed because he saw potential in every single one of the kids before him or because they knew how to follow instructions, he would never tell.

Anyone who saw Shouta's smile, however, would instantly see right through him, regardless of how little they would know of him.

Too bad Shouta was certain that absolutely nobody was looking at him. His every instinct as a Hero of the night whose bread and butter was vigilance told him so.

Too bad for the Hero of the night, there was a Hero looking right at his smile from across the field with a smile of his own who hunted those who made vigilance their bread and butter for breakfast, lunch and dinner, all for a better tomorrow.

Toshinori, from the very depths of his heart, liked each and every one of his new colleagues. They were great people, one and all of them, truly. Nezu's networking was one of the best of the whole world.

He ignored the permanent slight ache (what most might call an agonising fire) in his side to watch his protege shine.

He felt his smile diminish a bit at the sight of the boy he had taken under his wing to be his successor, smiling derisively at the people around him, loudly mocking every single one of them.

It only took a single event for Toshinori to realise what exactly was going on, and he felt his smile return manifold brighter than before.

Toshinori had been told many, many years prior that his real smile, the one that came forth from the depths of his heart could shine past even the blackest of nights, and that he must never let it out on a stakeout, like the one he was doubtless on.

So Toshinori, for he knew it was inevitable that he would smile, it was the next generation and his son he was watching after all. So he brought the very best preventative measure there was. A facemask!

As he watched his protege walk onto the circle to throw the ball, he felt the surge of One For All within him, although it felt… decidedly odd through their intrinsic connection. They were both wielders of the same Quirk after all. Torchbearers of the same flame.

Toshinori couldn't tell what exactly about it felt odd, it was like nothing he had felt before. He could almost put a finger on it, but before he could, he felt their connection… split.

When he snapped back in attention to look at the situation, he could tell immediately what had happened. His colleague had activated his own Quirk and had directed it at Toshinori's apprentice, presumably in order to impart some lessons.

Although it would appear that in doing so he somehow managed to bring Kyū to his base form in rather spectacular and theatrical fashion, it would honestly not make much of a difference in Toshinori's own very-unbiased eyes.

The second Kyū, the cutest girl Toshinori had ever laid eyes on, sadly including his own niece, who specialised in kick-based close combat and speed. And also lightning for some reason.

The third one didn't seem to share the same elemental mastery as his counterpart, although he could just be holding back. He did have some of the lightning that girl-Kyū did, although Toshinori could tell that it didn't share nearly the same efficacy.

Though the colour seemed… off. A bit brighter. In fact, Toshinori might go as far as to say that the green lightning was turning an electric blue.

Toshinori could feel the stares his much-respected teacher would give him. It was obvious what the origin of the lightning was, he was just running from his own culpability from the topic.

One For All truly worked in odd ways when mashed with complex Quirks like the one Kyū held, apparently.

From what Kyū, as a girl, had told him on one of their meetups, the whole transformation was basically Kyū powering up one of her Nightmares to the extent that they gain the strength to take over her body and somewhat change her mentality.

The idioms used physically hurt Toshinori, but seeing the cute-as-a-button girl call him Toshi-Sensei did him a lot of good. Something about the girl's features reminded him of his much-revered late Master, Shimura Nana, in a manner. It was the smile, really, but even those eyes, green eyes full of hope and endless defiance, that made Toshinori really glad he had met his successor on that day under that fateful bridge.

Much has happened in the ten months since. The incident with the gunsmith, who had been like a foster grandmother to Kyū, his insistence on calling his familiars Nightmares, the physical representations of all the wrongs done unto him in his short life, their routine, and much, much more besides.

Toshinori still had yet to make much of an impression on Kyū's mother, who as he understood it, had somewhat estranged herself from him for some reason. Why she would not break through every barrier with every power in her grasp to get closer to such a wonderful boy, he would never know.

Toshinori snapped out of his musings just as the final event, the long-distance running kicked off. He didn't need to check to know that Kyū, even as physically weak as he would be in his normal form, would be among the top in every event. He guffawed at the sight of several exasperated 'YES'-s marked through the stats marking his abilities.

Griffon truly was too much, sometimes. He managed to bring his schadenfreude-tinged humour to Toshinori and infect him.

Something nipped at the back of Toshinori's mind, however. What was shown on the spreadsheets in the tablet he had before him was impressive, truly. But it was nowhere near what the full powers of One For All should be. In fact, he would call it about ten percent of his own total strength.

Now, the question would be, where did the rest of the strength go? Was the stockpile simply getting accustomed to its new user and easing into it? Was there a mental block atrophying the acclimation process? Did Toshinori forget to properly create a vague description for Kyū's Quirk?

Oops.

Well, Toshinori decided to rectify that oversight before the end of the day. Perhaps a somewhat-illegal break-in to the HPSC Data Storage Facility was overdue. He had the rest of the day free anyway and he still had about… seventy-nine? No, eighty-three minutes of Quirk use left in him before his chance for sudden and extremely gory death skyrocketed.

Who was it that said that Toshinori was bad at performing calculations? He felt a chill run up his spine at that very-nearly-irreverent thought and decided to stop right there. He did not feel the need to be disciplined. His discipliner had a very unnatural sense of knowing that his student was being irreverent.

Anyway, Yagi Toshinori had little to do on U.A premises as of that moment. His successor was doing him far prouder than he had thought would have been possible and all of his paperwork for the next four days was already filed.

Toshinori smiled as he thought of reliving just a bit of his glory days. Not a bit his starry-eyed successor would ever think of him even having, but true nonetheless. Some of his most treasured memories of his peak hero days was infiltrating secret archives of governments to make sure they weren't up to something shady.

Basically, the World Government (honestly, at this point in time, the name was more of a joke than anything, and the WG knew it) gave Toshinori, as All Might, a superpowered licence to be a journalist. He used his power with impunity to bring his dream ever so closer to life.

He always hoped that he would be wrong.

He hoped wrong thirty four times in total.

He had performed his favoured side activity at least twice a year ever since he turned twenty-three, when he got the access privileges he needed worldwide and an unspoken permit to use them as he saw fit to bring down the outrageous crime rates.

It was around his fifth bust, his seventh government infiltration that the media noticed the pattern. Always, All Might entered a country, committed a spree of near-vigilantism that was only free from being labelled as such by his naysayers with the astounding paperwork done by his secretary and right-hand-man in the shadows, one Yagi Toshinori.

It was when he cleaned up all the gangs and the corruption in four different governments in the South American Continent within the astounding period of two months that the moniker of 'Symbol of Peace' began to be associated with him.

He had been twenty-seven at the time.

The Hero, All Might, had failed to save two thousand, three hundred and twenty nine lives by this point in his life.

Toshinori snapped out of his daze and gazed at the completely ordinary looking building before him. Getting in was always the fun bit. Now, when Yagi Toshinori existed as an entirely separate entity from the invincible, untouchable Pro-Hero known as All Might, if only on paper, getting in was a monumentally funny experience.

For Toshinori and his partner in crime, his friend since middle school, one Tsukauchi Naomasa at least.

Somehow, cleaners never get the attention they ought to get when they go into the building holding a vast amount of highly sensitive information.

It is completely unnecessary to mention, but cleaners were only allowed to sections of the building where electronics were not allowed, no matter what.

All governments knew, especially in the modern era, that technology can always be hacked. The solution opted by most government branches that Toshinori had infiltrated? Have the technology used be so old that even the idea of 'hacking' it to retrieve information would have the 'hacker' laughed out of the room.

"Toshi-Kun, it seems the HPSC has more of a budget than you had thought."

Toshinori felt his brow twitch at his best and oldest friends' dry snark at their situation. And the lasers blocking them from their prize. "I see it too, Naomasa. What do you think we should do to get in? Plan V&H?"

Naomasa's eyes widened dramatically at the thought of implementing that abomination of a plan that should never be considered more than a tactic in the very worst of scenarios.

He gulped and slowly, so as to not provoke the hunting instincts of the predator next to him that had his eyes set on his prey, asked, "are you sure about that, Toshinori? Isn't that a bit… extreme?"

Toshinori felt his cheeks begin to strain as he smiled innocently at the very-tired-looking detective under the employ of the same people whom he wished to surveil until he let out a very deep sigh that could be felt in the souls of overworked employees in a two-mile radius of his location.

Toshinori felt his smile turn genuine as he handed the Slicer, little brother of the Remote Hacking Device, brainchild of his other best friend and longtime ally in his pursuit of peace, David Shield.

Not that anyone would think so, if they were to look at it from the outside. By appearances, the Slicer looked like-

"A little green rabbit, Toshinori? Really?"

Toshinori saw his friend age four years right in front of his eyes before cheerily handing the little device that would be the harbinger of much pain to the Japanese Government over to him.

The detective held Toshinori's hand before the idiot hero could go. "How much time do you have, All Might? I'm calling this off right here and now if you don't-"

Naomasa felt his friend's warm hand on his shoulder cutting him off from his (silent) tirade.

In the end, Toshinori got his way. That day, three different Yakuzas within a hundred miles of the Archives were arrested by All Might. It was widely reported as the biggest bust by any single Pro Hero or Hero Agency in years. There were no casualties other than a completely unforeseeable loss of power in the city due to a Villain disrupting the power stations and setting off an EMP blast in the hopes of deterring All Might towards the end.

Power could not be restored even in the nearest hospital, Yavin, named after the city itself nearly seventy years in the past, for over five minutes. In a weird coincidence, due to a bomb threat, there were no critical patients present.

As is the usual case in the present, All Might disappeared after giving a short statement to the media.

The Symbol Of Peace was still the Number One Hero, after all. It has been reported that the bust, from beginning to end, lasted only fifty-three minutes. The property damage reported has also been only the barest minimum reported in any encounter with, for lack of a better word, good Villains in over four months.

—

Naomasa gave a sigh that began from the depths of his soul when he saw Toshinori again the next day. He knew his friend wasn't one to indulge usually, so let his aura of smug satisfaction slide. This once.

Elsewhere

"Sensei, did you see the news? It's making my itchiness worse, just to hear about it."

"It's fine, my disciple. The preparations are complete. Now, we just have to find our target."

"What'll the boss arena be, Sensei, the HPSC headquarters? A prison? I want to break these heroes and the world made by that shoddy Symbol of Peace into pieces!"

"Now, now, my cute little apprentice, just wait. What is Angelo's opinion on this matter?"

"..."

"How apt indeed. Tomura."

"Y-yes, Sensei?"

"Take Nelo Angelo with you, wherever you choose. He's been stuck here long enough. I hear the good doctor has prepared the Noumu models Bianca and Alto, just for this occasion."

"O-of course, Sensei."

"Now, what is the place that you would choose, Tomura?"

"I heard some NPC's gossiping about the Final Boss being a teacher at U.A…"

Hello! Sage here! Thanks for reading! Is it just me, or does Tomura sound... competent? Nah, must have been the wind.

Anyway, hello folks! I hear great things of y'all! Here's my proper first greeting! Only one more chapter till we are all caught up with AO3! Chapter Eleven is halfway done too! Anyway, the likelihood of me writing that thing increases the more people nag at me, so please understand; /cuYSXesV5j