Izuku burst through the store front, tearing through the aisles until he passed the register. Only stopping to give Mr. Tokage a shallow bow and quick hello, he practically leapt up the ladder into the upstairs apartment. Mrs. Tokage startled at his sudden appearance, almost dropping the dish she was drying, but Izuku sent a steadying Blackwhip to her aid before pivoting into Setsuna's room at full-speed.
Blasting open her door, he froze, realizing he'd just entered without thinking it through.
Dropping his letter to the floor, he slapped a hand over his eyes..
"Uhm…" Izuku began, turning his hand-covered eyes from where he thought she might be. His face was burning. "Are you dressed?"
"No, I've been waiting for you butt-naked all day." Her voice said, stabbing into Izuku's ears like daggers. His heart skipped a beat. Spluttering, he tried backing away—but with closed eyes, only managed to trip over himself and fall on his ass. The back of his head cracked against the door.
Wild, hysterical laughter blessed his ears just as the stars faded from his eyes, and it occurred to him that she'd been joking. Shimmying into a sitting position, he cracked a single eyelid and sighed in relief. Setsuna's sweats retained her modesty.
Setsuna walked over to his sprawled body. The raging hurricane of her laughter died to a breeze as she crouched beside him. Lifting the silver envelope by its corner, she wiggled it in front of his face.
"This bad boy is it? Mine was gilded, you know."
Izuku somehow managed to regain his dignity as he crossed his legs and plucked the letter from her grasp. She mirrored him, staring at the letter like a hungry animal even as he smirked.
"Well, yes, I remember seeing it glint as I swan dived for it."
The back of her hand brushed his jaw-scar as she play-slapped him, her eyes rolling.
"Don't pull that card, Izu. You totes emotionally manipulated me with that. Very uncouth. Anyways, don't play with me—open her up already. I've never seen a hologram this close up before."
"Me neither," Izuku said, tearing open the top and retrieving the coin-sized disk within. "I've heard they hurt your eyes. …I wonder how I did."
He tried to activate it, but Setsuna's hand shot out to his own, stopping him with an urgency that caught him off guard. Her eyebrows furrowed as she pulled him in, her gaze a mix of wonder and shock. Izuku tried to question her, but the butterflies in his stomach derailed his thought process.
"W-what—"
"You haven't shown your mom this? I thought—you came to me with this first? Why?"
Her eyes caught Izuku for a moment, drowning him in their green waters. He opened his mouth to reply, but could only manage to choke out half an answer as their closeness began beating him over the head.
"I-uhm, I—well, you were unsure about joining 1Z, so I thought this might boost your confidence that I'd be… ya' know… joining you soon enough. I—"
She shoved him off balance. He flailed, unable to stabilize with his prosthetic, but she pulled his hand back in before he could fall.
"God… damn it, Izuku. Now… I—god damn it. You're such a moron… call your mom. Video call. Now. You can't leave her out of these things."
He blinked. Then he blinked again—and it occurred to him she was correct. Today had been a blur, since he'd checked the mail and noticed the U.A. stamp on a letter. Izuku hadn't even gone back into the apartment—he'd just rushed down the road, sprinting to Setsuna's house before he thought anything through. Of course, he'd shot her an "incoming" text, but… his mother had slipped his mind. It was physically impossible for him to blush anymore, but still—a sense of shame infused his face.
"Oh-oh, yeah, you're right—I'm so stupid. S-sorry, hold on…" Izuku said, making to grab his phone—before realizing his fingers were stuck betwixt hers. He glanced at their fingers—then to her face, and then back at their hands. She raised an eyebrow at him.
It took her a second to understand. For a brief moment, Izuku wondered if she would force him to pull his own hand away—but Setsuna soon caught on, and released him after fumbling to disentangle their digits. He hid his burning face as he brought up his mom's contact.
Before he could go commit, however, a narrow slice of anxiety wedged itself into his chest.
There was little doubt in his mind that he passed. The exams had been a cake walk, he'd accumulated more points than he bothered to count, and he'd freaking destroyed the Zero Pointer! But for that brief moment his thumb hovered over the "Call" button…
"Oh… wow." Izuku muttered, pressing the phone's face into his sternum as he steadied himself. Setsuna, out of the corner of his eye, glanced at him. Her face was a bit pink, but seemed more confused than embarrassed.
"What are you waiting for?" She asked, scooching over to him. Even through his prosthetic, he could feel her body heat. He inched into it, like a plant to the sun, but stopped just short of touching her. Her warmth calmed the sudden ache in his chest, and he found his phone-arm slipping into his lap.
"I… Uh—it just hit me that I'm holding a U.A. hologram. One that has either my acceptance or rejection inside—basically my whole future. If I don't get—"
She interrupted him by closing the gap between their shoulders, the impact lolling his head to his opposite side.
"Hey, don't be a baby. We both know you passed—well, I'm pretty sure at least. You weren't exactly forthcoming about the exam when I last asked. You seemed confident though."
"Well, I was. I mean—am. I am. Just…"
"It's just a heavy moment. I get it man; but this is why you should've shown this to your mom first. Ya gotta have somebody who's gonna be there for you all the way, you feel? Someone you trust instinctively. I wish I'd done it—no offense to Shoto, but he wasn't exactly perfect company when Nedzu shoved my letter in my face."
A soft chortle escaped Izuku, but even laughter couldn't save the new blush growing on his cheeks.
"W-well… yeah. I feel you—but I did. I did come to someone I trust." Izuku said, his vision darting to the carpet. A small niggling of guilt flickered in his chest, but he squashed it down. As much as he trusted her, he still wasn't worthy of her own trust—no matter what she thought. He'd made leaps and bounds of progress… but it still wasn't enough. Not yet at least.
Such was another reason this hologram in his lap was so… important. If it rejected him for whatever reason—ignoring Nedzu's command, stealing points, intimidating some students—then he was screwed. With his dream school out the window, it'd be incredibly hard to become a hero, let alone a master of his quirk. And if he couldn't master his quirk, he couldn't live his life with honor… or even be honest with the girl he liked.
He was so busy pondering the carpet that he almost jumped out of his skin when Setsuna's ear settled on his shoulder.
"Alright moron, I don't know your angle, but you gotta quit buttering me up. I'm cutting cholesterol." She murmured, and Izuku wasn't sure if his body would melt or explode first—but he was certain in his next action. He leaned his ear into her scalp and apologized.
"My bad, Set. But I think you're right—I should still call my mom."
"Then let's get this party started."
There was a reluctance on Izuku's end, but he pulled away and gathered the courage to call his mom's cell. It was a Saturday, and she picked up on the second ring.
Izuku's smile went crooked, seeing how she rubbed sleep from her eye—what time of day was it?
"Hey mom, did I wake you up?" He asked, just as Setsuna leaned into the camera's view.
"Hey Ms. Midoriya!"
It was like Setsuna's appearance had cast a spell, and all drowsiness fled her. His mom sat up, showing the camera how she shot to her feet and hurried out of her room, spluttering a dozen apologies.
"Sorry, sorry! Don't mind the mess, don't mind me—"
"Mom! Please, relax. I, uhm, forgot to tell you I got my U.A. letter. You wanna watch it with us?"
The look on her face must've been priceless, as Setsuna doubled over in giggles, but Izuku could only feel the embarrassment of not telling her sooner.
"Well then what are we waiting for! Come on now, I wanna see!"
Passing the phone over to Setsuna, they got comfortable opposite one another. Plucking the hologram disk from his lap, he held his breath for a second, then two, before pressing the button.
Tossing the disk into the vacant space between them, Izuku could feel his stomach twist itself into knots as it made a sudden beep and flickered to life. A little gasp came from both his phone and Setsuna as Vlad King sprang to life in her room.
"Hey, is this thing on?" He asked, looking slightly away from the camera. "Oh yeah? Alright. Izuku Midoriya—student of Nighteye, friend of Ms. Tokage, and amputee of five years. Hello. You may be asking yourself: Why me?"
Izuku peered around the hologram, making eye contact with Setsuna as she mirrored him.
"It's simple, really. I didn't get a word in edgewise last I saw you, and we have unfinished business thanks to the Tokage girl. I'd like to—" Someone coughed off-camera, and told him to hurry up. "Ah, whatever. I'd like to speak with you about your circumstances soon, but now isn't appropriate, so allow me to give your report."
Izuku's grip on his own pant leg tightened. Across from him, little sobs were coming from the phone, as were the soft assurances of his friend.
"To be frank, your performance was exceptional. For each exam, you scored within the 99th percentile, and flat out had the best score in the heroics exam—both times. Yes, despite the fact that you did not acquire Aizawa's approval for your entrance into 1Z, those scores have not gone to waste. Beyond acing every standard level exam we offer, when we compound that upon your 97th percentile score among 1Z, it is safe to say you are one of our most studious applicants of the decade. Nedzu also understands that you are an active apprentice of one Sasami Fujimaki, and although under the table, would like to confirm that your apprenticeship at Shimisuka is noted. It is also noted and applauded that you have completed all the required credits that our highschool offers beyond heroics, and a discussion shall be held on what that shall entail in the coming days.
Over the course of half an hour, you destroyed a grand total of forty three robots—forty four, technically—and accumulated a total worth of 85 villain points. That score, by itself, puts you in the 98th percentile of entrance exam scores—not just of this year or decade, but in all of U.A.'s long history. Only a handful of our legends have exceeded such a score, with the highest ever being 200. Which, at first glance, is quite the leap from your own… but that is their total, while your current score is just a fraction of a greater whole."
Izuku's grip on his pant leg went slack.
"Villain points are half of what we calculate—for what kind of hero school if we didn't reward heroic behavior? Such is where rescue points come into play…"
Vlad King's visage shrunk, and for a moment, Izuku worried the disk was faulty. But soon a square box replaced his broad form—a video recording, and Izuku felt his heart skip a beat.
"...What the fuck am I looking at?" Setsuna's voice wafted into his ears, her voice low and heavy. His mother's sobs had gone quiet.
It was the Zero Pointer, seconds before Izuku sprung into action. Titanic. Massive. Overwhelming and threatening and intimidation incarnate. Setsuna said something else, but Vlad King's profile appeared in the corner of the recording as it began to play. In the corner, he could see himself swing unto the top of the building, and towards the bottom, he could just barely make out Yoru.
"The Zero Pointer is U.A.'s most dangerous tool—but we have total control. Its purpose is to act as an unbeatable obstacle, an inconceivable threat. In short, it's a weed-out machine. We judge each student differently upon their reaction to its presence—even if they take the same action. Trust us, here at U.A., we know the difference between running away and a tactical retreat. But this case was different—here, we were forced to decide between two actions: overzealous pride and unbendable will.
The scenario utilized the unfortunate Ochako Uraraka, who unbeknownst to us was quite injured—but we made no worry of it. We will never harm a student with the Zero Pointer on our own accord—such is why our control over it is absolute. However, the blood of some of our applicants runs too hot, and sometimes accidents happen."
Izuku watched, now from a wider perspective, as he leapt off the building. To see it all play out from a third perspective was quite odd. His momentum carried him up far faster than the camera appreciated—his visage tore and warped, but you could still make out the way Voidlimb grew and morphed into Voiddrill right before impact.
At the time, the Zero Pointer's dodge had blindsided him, but from the bird's eye view, it seemed so obvious. Yoru was charging his "Cinco Cannon" since Izuku jumped off the roof, and he got to see how the boy's blunder had ruined his perfect attack.
Setsuna sucked a hard breath down her throat as Yoru's Cinco Cannon decimated one of the Zero Pointer's legs. Her next reaction overshadowed the last as Izuku, almost instantly, burst into an explosion of writhing Blackwhip tentacles and caught the monstrosity before it could fall and crush anyone.
"In all of U.A.'s long history, we have never lost control of a Zero Pointer. Yoru's admittedly impressive power stole the steering wheel from our hands, and thus… we have placed him in general studies. While his point total was quite pleasant on the eyes, we simply can not have such sheer impulsiveness in the primary classes. He must learn self control, and how to manage his overzealous pride. You, on the other hand, should be proud. It was clear he had the pride, but you had the will. It was a true, life-threatening emergency, and you stepped up at your own risk. There is nothing more heroic—and that is considering what you managed next."
It was surreal, watching it from an outsider's point of view—and it was terrifying, hearing his own screams of agony as he struggled under the burden.
Any and all noise coming from his mother or his friend ceased as Setsuna leaned forward, watching the Hologram with wide eyes.
He blinked as the purple-haired boy appeared, watching Izuku's struggle with rigid, fearful posture. Izuku winced, listening to himself cry out in alarm, and rubbed his shoulder where he'd torn. Recovery Girl patched him up well, but the memory of the pain was still fresh in his mind.
"It would do you well to give the boy a thank-you, the next you meet. You both were quite impressive that day. Hitoshi Shinso would also do well to thank you—after all, without the rescue points he received with your help, he would have been relegated to general studies."
Izuku watched as Shinso acted as the sole individual to heed his cry. He saw how Hitoshi dragged Yoru away with Uraraka on his shoulder, and Izuku felt a small smile on his face. It was good to see good in people.
"...Izuku…" Setsuna whispered, staring as the final stretch of the video played, and Izuku understood.
He didn't quite… remember the entirety of the moment, really. Izuku was blinking in and out of consciousness at the time, and was just happy have stalled long enough. Still, there was the vaguest inkling of a memory nestled in his mind, and he grasped it as the camera went black.
"The feed ends here, given you used the torn-away camera to pulverize the core of the Zero Pointer. It is… beyond impressive to have destroyed the machine, and after what you pushed through in order to take that shot? We here at U.A. applaud it. Unfortunately, your villain score will not be inflated for it, given the monster's namesake. Your rescue score, on the other hand…
Had it been a planned scenario, where all our variables were accounted for and controlled, we would have granted you sixty points for your actions. But it was not planned—it was a real emergency, and you saved at least two lives. It is everything we hope our student body to be like, one day, and you embody it before even enrolling. Therefore, calculating that, and including the several rescues you performed upon your war-path to reaching the Zero Pointer, Nedzu has seen fit to grant you…"
Izuku wasn't sure he heard the man right, but when he glanced at Setsuna, he saw the wave her lips mouthed the number back at him.
"...114 rescue points. Izuku Midoriya. Your total score is 199, and I hereby welcome you into your hero academia. Oh, and tell Ms. Tokage—"
The feed cut off there, and Vlad King's profile fizzled out, replaced by a QR code for his syllabus.
"..." Izuku opened his mouth, but hollow air replaced his words and all was silent.
Izuku's phone hung limp at Setsuna's side as she stared at him, the voice of his mom muffled in the carpet.
"Did he say 199? Did Vlad King say 199? Is that good? What's—"
Setsuna flung herself across the room, crashing into Izuku with a massive tackle. He yelped, surprised as his back slammed into the floor as she straddled him. Hysterical laughter suffused the whole of the room. Setsuna's wild giggle drowned out his mother's repeated questions.
"You're insane!" She hollered, tears streaking down her face as Izuku just stared up at her, gobsmacked. "You're in! He's in, Ms. Midoriya! And god dammit he's damn near tickling U.A.'s best!"
Izuku opened his mouth again, but the shock hadn't worn off and Setsuna wasn't making the process easier. Across the room, his mother's squeal peaked the phone's speakers, but her excited chatter went straight through Izuku's ears.
Setsuna began beating on his chest as he did nothing to stop her. Her knuckles' soft thumps on his pecs were like a heartbeat, and it was the only one could feel in his whole body.
"What the fuck were you thinking, taking on that Zero Pointer! Oh my gosh, you're insane! Why didn't you tell me you fought that thing! You looked so badass!"
Izuku could only stare back up at her, his mind blank but for her face. Everything fell away. Her room. His mother's excited sobs. His body and mind and soul. For a moment—for a brief, infantesimal moment—he was weightless, and the effect of gravity felt like a long-forgotten dream. But Setsuna was in his lap, and she kept him from floating away. There was a small burning in his chest, but it grew, and it did so fast. From a tiny ember to a roaring inferno, he could do nothing but look up at his best friend and smile. His eyes lingered on her lips, but they settled on her eyes.
He reached up with his last remaining arm and placed it around her neck, pulling her down for an oddly lateral hug. Smiling into her surprised ear, he couldn't help but feel a tear trickle out of his own eye as he whispered.
"Next stop? The Sports Festival."
[x]
Nedzu always had mixed feelings on his claws. On one paw, he missed them—being declawed had been traumatic mutilation, and he missed their function everyday. Always having a knife on hand had been a luxury he'd taken granted of until it was gone.
In this moment, however, he was glad. It was one less involuntary tick—now, the only thing that could give away his nerve was the hair on the back of his neck. Of course, he could shave, but that would take away his pride as a man.
He allowed himself to drum his pads against his desk, but even now his instincts yearned to drag his claws through something.
His associates gave him an odd look, hearing the dull thuds of his pads on mahogany. The whole of U.A.'s hero staff sat around him, their enormous meeting room seeing genuine use for once. There was an odd mix in the air—today, they'd decided to meet and discuss classes as a unit. They were a tight knit group, as per his design, but it was a rarity to see every hero in one room.
They had such a meeting every year, but this time—it was different. Two new faces found seats towards the opposite end of the table, and today should've celebrated that. 1Z's chosen guardians, their field-handlers, should've gotten a round of applause and a pat on the back. They should've gotten to place their coffee mugs in the teacher's lounge, pick out an office space, and greet the rest of the staff. They should've, but it didn't happen—not today. Not after the news.
This morning, the terrorist group, Crow, had raided a children's hospital. Kids and staff were missing, and the place had burned to the ground in their wake. It'd been across the prefect; too far for U.A. to step up, but too close to not feel the guilt in the air. Even then, had there not been a proximity, Nedzu imagined his staff would feel down. As much as Nedzu prided himself on his rational apathy, even he couldn't escape a few remorseful chokes at the news.
A children's hospital. For the unfortunate. For the disabled. For the kids whose quirks came in hard and fast and dangerous. The Crow had seen that establishment and decided to wipe it away, not only stealing it as a resource, but stealing the innocents within.
Nedzu's drumming pads slowed, thinking of the hospital. His research on the little Ninth upset Nighteye a great deal. He couldn't bring himself to regret it, however—not when connections lined up so… perfectly.
The children's hospital—the one for quirk-related accidents—was the very same facility that the little Ninth had gone to upon blasting apart his own arm. Nedzu closed his eyes, imagining himself in his home office—opening his drawer, selecting the Ninth's file, opening it to the fourth page—and the name came to him. His physician, Ms. Utsushimi—gone. Disappeared in the collapsed hospital. Not even leaving behind a corpse.
All that remained was a single survivor, thanks to the quick action from Ingenium.
When Nedzu's eyes opened, he could see his reflection in the face of his staff. Each of their discomforts warped—some dispersing, some increasing—depending on their trust in himself. Shouta, for example, sported quite a serious scrunched brow. Ectoplasm and Midnight, on the other hand, leaned back into their chairs, if ever so subtly. Nedzu gauged their reactions, noting every detail, and found himself smiling as he was able to picture his own expression as if looking into a mirror.
There was a gleam in his eyes; sharp, but not hard, and a firm grin stretched his cheeks that lacked any mirth. The only two individuals not to aid in his self-examination were the two new staff member's on hand—but that would change with time. Soon, Nedzu would learn their opinions and calculate them accordingly. As it were, he disregarded their incredulous reactions to his smile. Especially the shorter one.
Vlad King leaned into the table, planting his elbows on the solid wood with enough force to draw the room's attention.
"Sir. I see you. What schemes are you cooking?" He asked, his voice full of weight. He spoke through his lower jaw, and his grumble was rather pleasant on Nedzu's ears.
His paw-tapping came to a full stop.
"I believe it's time we announced 1Z's roster to the public."
Before the words even escaped his lips, half the chairs slammed into the floor, his heroes leaping to their feet.
"What!?" Hizashi asked, his voice rising above the rest. "What about today has made that seem like a good idea!? They're not even going to be official—if they even succeed—for another two months!"
Midnight was next—she still sat, but her voice was nearly as piercing as Hizashi's.
"That hardly seems appropriate after today, Sir. Surely we can wait until the Sports Festival. At least then, we wouldn't be showing our hand prematurely."
Though her words appealed to Nedzu's sense of reason on the surface, his mind was already long gone, digging several layers deeper than a simple war of intelligence.
"Nemuri, dear," Nedzu began, holding out a paw to silence the chatter, "you are correct. Revealing them now would be a terrible fumble if this was poker—but this year is different. The Sports Festival will be a statement. A flex of U.A.'s biceps—a beacon of hope for the masses. But that is two months from now, and the morale of the populace is low now. They need some sort of hope, and the Crow needs some sort of deterrent. What would be better than our next batch?"
Eraserhead chose this moment to chime in, his voice quiet but striking.
"Your idea puts these kids at risk. Why not have an exposition for the seniors? Amajiki and Togata alone should be enough to induce some sort of excitement. Hado and Shigechi would also do your idea quite a bit of justice."
The smile plastered over Nedzu's maw shifted—turning a little more genuine. As much as Eraserhead treated everything he said with skepticism, his insight was invaluable.
"Point, Shouta. My only issue is that most of them—especially the ones mentioned—are already in the public eye. Togata's renown is always growing, and soon he'll be as famous as any hero in the top ten. 1Z would have a far greater impact than just reintroducing our little celebrity. Nine combat-ready young people with hearts of gold and quirks of steel? It can't reverse the damages, but perhaps it can slow down future endeavors. There is also the aspect of public exposure—with this and the incoming Sports Festival, we'd attract more interest in these students than any before! Just picture it."
The look on Eraserhead's face shifted, and Nedzu fell silent. As if on cue, most of the adults in the room re-seated themselves as their resident underground hero took the floor.
"...Nine, sir?" He asked, and Nedzu felt himself literally bristle. Cursed instincts. Clapping his hands together, he hopped onto the table top and began pacing down the length.
"Yes, nine. For the moment." He said, turning heel and walking back down the opposite way. His staff shared glances between each other, but no one broke his right to the floor. "First day of classes is in two days. What say we pull 1Z out of orientation like Mr. Aizawa is so fond of doing and make a press promotion? Not only for 1Z, but we can bring 3A and 3B in as well. We can slap the big three in with 1Z for a pretty twelve. Like the Olympians."
"The Olympians?" Vlad King asked. Nedzu stopped his pacing in front of the man's chair and nodded.
"Yes, Ancient Greece's pantheon of gods. They sat at the summit of Mount Olympus in thrones. Of course, there were lesser gods… and greater… but the people worshiped them the most. Revered them the most. Feared them the most. Twelve is lucky, you see. There's a psychological resonance with the number. It will give the people hope."
"That's all well and good Sir," Ectoplasm said, rising to his fullest height. "But it will do little to ease the fears of the victims. People were hurt, Sir, and it seems disrespectful to utilize a tragedy for… promotion."
All were silent as Nedzu turned to the man, watching the interaction with wide eyes. Ectoplasm rarely spoke in meetings—but his word held just as much power as Eraserhead's. Nedzu, beyond his slight irritation, felt a hint of pride in his chest. And a smidgeon of hope.
"Of course that is a valid perspective, but allow me to key you in on a greater truth."
Nedzu made his way back to the head seat and hopped to the floor. Everyone watched as he hauled a drawer of files onto the table top, returning to barely see over the height of the box. He gave it a light slap, and the thin metal echoed around the silent room. Careful, he plucked three files from the drawer and tossed them to the nearest seats.
"Victims list." Ectoplasm muttered, picking up his offered file.
"Targeted locations—success and failures." Midnight said.
"Known resources." Powerloaded said.
Nedzu nodded, hopping up onto the corner of the drawer like an offered seat. He didn't bother handing out more files—it would've been more of the same.
"That victims list," Nedzu said, gesturing for Ectoplasm to flip open his file, "has almost doubled in size since this very morning. This whole drawer is from my personal collection—it's every scrap, every detail, every theory I've put together since the appearance of the Crow a few years ago. It is my understanding that there is a separate investigation headed by the Commission, but these is my own observations. Would you like my abbreviated hypothesis?"
Not a soul responded—not his senior staff, not his new 1Z hires, not even Present Mic, whose mouth almost never shuts. Regardless of this fact, Nedzu clapped, and hopped back onto his feet.
"Thank you for the enthusiasm. It's come to my understanding that the Crow is looking for something—or perhaps someone. Banks. Hospitals. Personal homes. Government labs. Businesses from store fronts to highrises. The only anomaly is all the destroyed infrastructure—but that could just be them making their statement. Otherwise, there is a consistency in their targets: they only go where they could find deep, personal information on men and women with interesting quirks. I believe the schools are next—and we're their first target. We must set a standard for all educational facilities. A strong front. A powerful statement—that messing with our students will be a far more difficult task than they bargained for. They've probably already sussed out our new class, but they have no idea of the severity in their skills. We will hold our trump cards to our chest—but they must know we have them, and I will not let them forget it."
His staff turned inwards, then, and spoke amongst themselves. Nedzu didn't bother with listening to half of the chatter—their posture had shifted as a unit, and Nedzu knew he'd convinced them.
Opposite of the table, his new 1Z hires stood, and the attention shifted to them. The taller of the two spoke first, and Nedzu appreciated it. The second hire had been a hard sell—but the Commission demanded it in exchange for 1Z's existence.
"I believe I'm going to like it here. In my youth, this place was a bit posh for me, but under your reign, principal, this place is shaping up to my liking." Whirlwind said, and Hawks nodded beside him.
"I like the attitude. Let's show those bird brains what's up."
Present Mic snorted.
[x]
AN: So, 1Z's guardians are big-timers. Izuku is basically kissing the u.a. record. maybe I teased a lil something in this chapter, or maybe you're hallucinating.
Review!