BEGGING

Aizawa wriggled in his sleeping bag, stretched, and rolled over. A grimy banana peel and damp newspaper slid off his shoulders. Perplexed, he further found soot rubbed into his face, additional scuffs in his uniform, and a raggedy gray hat bulging with money.

Aizawa glared at the hat. "Nezu better not be using me to scrape together extra funds again."

"Oh, it's not just you this time."

Vlad King looked like a butchered mummy, with blood-soaked rags and an eyepatch. He had an entire cardboard box of money dumped into it.

"Did he spend all our money on tea again?"

"Worse." Cementoss shuffled over. Both his feet were encased in concrete, and water dripped from his torn three-piece suit. His briefcase had bill sticking out of the sides. "He bought himself a new tea set. Priceless Han Dynasty china."

Aizawa pinched his nose. "Can't he just crash the stock market again?"

"The Americans beat him to the punch on that one," Present Mic explained. "Tanked their own economy the moment they heard Nezu went on a spending spree."

"Aren't you supposed to be deaf?" Vlad King asked, pointing at the bandages over his ears.

"Deaf people can speak too! Gosh, don't be so insensitive!"

A man walking by nodded eagerly, told him how brave he was, and handed him his entire wallet. He tossed it over to Ectoplasm, who wiggled his leg stumps in the air at passerby while running a tall stack of credit cards through a machine.

"At least tell me he doesn't have the students doing it too," Aizawa groused.

Present Mic winced and tugged at his collar. "Well…"

Aizawa facepalmed. "Where?"

Around the corner, Todoroki held up a sign saying he had an abusive dad with a fire Quirk. A sobbing man dumped an entire wheelbarrow of gold bars and profusely told the poor young man that everything would be okay, and he would find a real father someday.

Hagakure held up her own sign, saying she died, became a ghost, and needed to pay off her parent's debts to Satan. She had a growing collection of souls in jars.

And across the street, Izuku, in the shape of a dented, faded vending machine, gobbled up a bill and spat out thanks for contributing to the orphaned war veteran vending machine fund.

"Nezu better be doing something about this himself," Aizawa groused.

"Oh, but I am." Nezu sat at a desk, sipping tea, with a sign that said, "I am a poor, freezing, shivering rat. Please donate money for warm tea. Or tea. Tea is good." He had piles of Gold Tips Imperial, which he drank out of his imported antique china.

Aizawa smashed the china. Nezu shrugged and said, "It was fake anyways."

A man rushed over and gave him an even nicer set of china. At that, Aizawa threw his hands up. "That's it. I'm done."

A passerby told him that he had so much to live for and gave him his life savings.

500

Midnight, pole dancing in her skimpiest hero outfit: Nezu, do I really have to do this?

Mineta, making it rain: this is the best day of my life!