Aizawa sighed once more, leaning back slightly in his chair as his students continued their animated conversations. The room buzzed with excitement and curiosity, but there was a heaviness in the air—no doubt a result of the recent attack at USJ. The school had been on break for a short while, giving everyone time to process what had happened and to recover both physically and mentally. Yet, despite the time away, the events of that day still dominated the classroom chatter.
The girls—Uraraka, Jirou, Yaoyorozu, Tooru and Tsuyu—were huddled together, talking about Shigaraki. His pale, decaying appearance and his motives for attacking U.A. were the hot topic.
"Why would someone want to kill All Might so badly?" Uraraka wondered aloud, her brow furrowed. "It just doesn't make sense."
"Maybe it's revenge or something?" Jirou offered. "He must have some personal vendetta against heroes."
"I don't like how easily he controlled the villains," Yaoyorozu added thoughtfully. "It's almost like they were just pawns in his plan."
Tsuyu nodded, her usual calm expression troubled. "Shigaraki seemed obsessed. That's dangerous."
Meanwhile, most of the boys were talking about a different subject altogether: Izuku Gojo. Or rather, how cool Izuku Gojo was during the USJ incident.
"He just stood there, dodging that Nomu like it was nothing!" Kirishima exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "And then when he went all serious? That was so Manly!"
"His Infinity Barrier is the most OP quirk I've ever seen," Kaminari chimed in. "How do you even fight someone you can't touch?"
Sero nodded in agreement. "It's almost like he's invincible. He didn't even break a sweat during that whole thing!"
Kirishima grinned. "Plus, he can heal people. Dude's got everything."
But not everyone was swept up in admiration. Bakugou, sitting with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed, was glaring at Izuku with barely concealed frustration. The fiery blonde hated being outshone, and ever since Izuku Gojo had shown up, it felt like the spotlight had shifted away from him. Fancy Eyes, as Bakugou called him, had gone from being a nobody to a hero whose power seemed boundless.
Todoroki, too, was silent, his mismatched eyes fixed on Izuku with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. For someone like Todoroki, who bore the burden of both his father's expectations and his own tremendous power, Izuku's sudden appearance was... unsettling. He couldn't help but feel there was something more beneath the surface.
And what was Izuku doing amidst all this? He was sitting at his desk, scrolling through LaceBook on his phone, occasionally giggling like a schoolgirl at the endless stream of cat reels. A fluffy kitten chasing a laser pointer, a tabby failing to make a leap, a mischievous Siamese knocking over a glass of water—each video seemed to entertain him more than the last.
But Aizawa wasn't fooled. He could see through the boy's carefree façade. Izuku was pretending, putting on an act to appear more approachable, more normal. The truth, however, was far from normal. Aizawa knew Izuku was hiding secrets—secrets just as significant as All Might's. The boy was a ghost, with no substantial background before the "Nursery Incident." Suddenly, here he was, with a quirk so powerful it defied logic. Telekinesis, levitation, healing, super strength, super speed, and that cursed Infinity Barrier that made him untouchable.
Aizawa narrowed his eyes slightly. It's too perfect. Too convenient.
If not for the fact that All Might and Principal Nezu had vouched for him, Aizawa would have already launched a deeper investigation. But they had assured him, and Aizawa trusted their judgment. For now.
Clearing his throat, Aizawa's voice cut through the chatter like a blade. "If you're here to gossip, you're free to leave."
Instantly, the room fell silent. The students snapped to attention, their eyes turning toward their teacher.
Aizawa surveyed them with his usual bored expression. "First off, I want to thank all of you for keeping your mouths shut about what happened at USJ."
His gaze lingered on each student, making sure the weight of his words sank in. "The public doesn't need to know the details. The media thinks All Might saved the day, and that's the story we're sticking to. What Gojo did stays between us, got it?"
A few heads nodded hesitantly. It was tough for some of them to keep quiet, especially after witnessing such an incredible display of power. But they understood the importance of keeping the truth hidden.
"Good." Aizawa continued, his tone slightly less severe. "Now, let's move on to what's coming next—the U.A. Sports Festival."
At the mention of the festival, the room buzzed with excitement once more. The U.A. Sports Festival was a major event, not just within the school but across the entire hero community. It was broadcasted nationwide, showcasing the quirks and abilities of students in various challenges. It was a chance to impress pro heroes and agencies—and, for some, to make a name for themselves.
"The Sports Festival is your chance to show what you're made of," Aizawa explained, his voice taking on a more instructional tone. "It's not just about glory. Pro heroes will be watching, scouting for potential sidekicks and interns. Your performance could directly impact your future as a hero."
He paused, letting the gravity of the situation sink in before continuing. "But remember, this isn't just about showing off. Other classes will be competing too. And if you don't perform well, students from other classes could take your place in Class 1-A."
The confident ones in the room—Kirishima, Kaminari, even Uraraka—responded immediately with enthusiastic nods, their expressions determined.
"I'll win for sure!" Kirishima declared, his eyes practically glowing with excitement.
"Yeah, no way we're letting some other class steal our spot," Kaminari added, flashing a thumbs-up to the others.
But amidst the chatter, one person was notably silent: Izuku. The white-haired boy merely smirked as he leaned back in his chair, his phone resting on his knee. He wasn't saying anything, but that smirk was enough to catch the attention of Todoroki, Bakugou, Iida, and Aizawa himself.
He's planning something, Aizawa thought, watching the boy closely. Something big.
Bakugou's hands clenched into fists, his frustration boiling just beneath the surface. Damn him… What's he smirking for?
Todoroki's eyes narrowed slightly, his thoughts unreadable as he studied Izuku. For someone who was so laid-back most of the time, Izuku had a way of unsettling even the most composed of students.
As the room filled with determination and anticipation, Aizawa couldn't help but wonder what the Sports Festival would bring—and what secrets Izuku Gojo would reveal.
O—O—O
In the dark, damp alley, the rhythmic click of heavy boots against the cracked pavement cut through the silence like a distant echo. The man walking there was a hulking figure, his imposing frame almost too large for the narrow space. He strolled casually, hands tucked in the pockets of his tattered jacket, a lollipop stick hanging lazily from the corner of his mouth. His aura was nothing short of menacing, like a predator on the prowl, and it was enough to send shivers down the spines of anyone unfortunate enough to cross his path.
Toji Fushiguro.
A name that should've been buried with the dead. But death had never been more than a passing inconvenience for him. A man who had defied death itself, walking in the shadows, quietly observing the world he once tore through like a force of nature. A world that should have long forgotten him, yet here he was, stalking the streets like a ghost haunting the living. But this time, his focus was—personal. His great-great-fucking-granddaughter, if the bloodline was to be believed, now walked the halls of U.A. High School. Surprisingly, she had Tsumiko's blood from her father's side and Megumi's blood from her mother' side. Of course she didn't know that her great-great-fucking-graandfather was roaming the world for centuries. Heck, she probably didn't even know she comes from the line of warmachines.
Not that it mattered to Toji. Family, legacy, honor—he had long since discarded those concepts, along with the remnants of his own humanity. Still, he couldn't ignore the nagging itch in his gut, a sensation that something was wrong. The media coverage surrounding the U.S.J. incident had caught his eye. His instinct screamed that the story being spoon-fed to the public reeked of lies. And Toji Fushiguro had learned, through years of living in darkness, that lies always hid something much more dangerous underneath.
The official narrative was neat, too neat. The glorious All Might, beacon of hope, swooping in at the last moment to save his students from a bio-engineered monstrosity designed to kill him—the Nomu. The news anchors showered him with praise, the people ate it up, and U.A. was lauded for its supposed victory over an unexpected attack.
But Toji? He smelled bullshit.
"No way it's that simple," Toji muttered under his breath, the lollipop crunching between his teeth as his sharp eyes scanned his surroundings. There was always more to the story, especially when cursed energy and things that went bump in the night were involved. And when Toji got a whiff of something out of place, he wasn't the type to just let it slide.
He had his own way of uncovering truths, of digging into the muck and finding what others would rather stay buried. A contact in the underworld, someone with a knack for cracking restricted files and backdoor surveillance footage, had pulled some strings for him. That was all it took for Toji to get his hands on the raw footage from that fateful day at U.S.J.
And what he saw made his grin stretch wide, teeth glinting under the dim light of a streetlamp.
"Well, ain't that something," he chuckled darkly, spitting out the remnants of the lollipop stick.
He had watched the footage, again and again, his sharp gaze studying every detail. The quirk users were predictable—fire, ice, brute strength, the usual. But one boy, one white-haired brat, stood out like a star in the night sky. Toji couldn't take his eyes off the way he moved, the calm, almost lazy control he had over cursed energy. The Infinity Barrier, a technique unmistakable to anyone familiar with cursed sorcery, immediately caught Toji's attention. And the more he watched, the more his irritation festered, turning to bitter amusement.
Gojo blood.
There was no mistaking it. The resemblance was uncanny, both in appearance and power. The way the boy, known as Izuku Gojo, wielded cursed energy so effortlessly, the way the very laws of physics bent around him—it all screamed of the Gojo lineage. A lineage Toji knew all too well. Memories of his battles with Satoru Gojo, the so-called strongest sorcerer, flashed through his mind. The man who had once stood in his way, unkillable, untouchable. But this boy, this Izuku Gojo, was different.
"You've got the blood, but do you have the guts?" Toji muttered to himself, rolling his shoulders as he walked. His eyes gleamed with a dangerous, predatory light.
This kid, this brat with Gojo blood coursing through his veins, wasn't just some wannabe hero-in-training. There was something more, something bigger at play. And Toji knew, deep down, that the Nomu, the villains—those were distractions. Filler in the real story. The true prize was that boy. And Toji wasn't the type to let an opportunity slip through his fingers, not when it meant getting one step closer to settling an old score with the Gojo family if possible.
As he turned the corner, slipping deeper into the labyrinth of dark alleys, the sound of the bustling city faded into the background. His grin widened, the thrill of the hunt stirring in his blood.
"The Sports Festival is coming up," Toji mused, his voice low, almost a growl. "I think it's about time I paid U.A. a visit."
His mind churned with plans, schemes, possibilities. The thought of confronting the boy, testing his limits, made his pulse quicken. Izuku Gojo wasn't just another obstacle—he was the key to something far more interesting.
And Toji Fushiguro never could resist a good fight.
O—O—O
In the hospital room, quiet except for the steady beeps of the heart monitor, Inko Midoriya lay in a deep, undisturbed slumber. Machines tracked her oxygen levels, blood pressure, heartbeat—all within steady limits, all signs of life. Yet, her consciousness was elsewhere, trapped in a place Izuku Gojo couldn't reach.
Izuku stared at his mother, feeling a deep ache of helplessness rise in his chest. He, Satoru Gojo, a master of the Reversed Cursed Technique, the wielder of the Limitless and Six Eyes, who could heal injuries, halt death, couldn't pull her out of this coma. She was there, but her soul felt… fragmented, as if a crucial part had been ripped away.
His mind flashed to a memory of another time, another life, of Megumi's sister, Tsumiki, who had fallen into a similar state. It was Kenjaku's doing back then, implanting seals on countless people to serve as vessels for dead sorcerers. Those vessels had lingered in a deep coma until they were summoned to serve. Here, Inko's case was different, but eerily close. All For One had stolen a part of her soul. His quirks enabled him to manipulate and control so many, even their essence. Izuku had no doubt All For One's interference was why she lingered in this state.
But if All For One was indeed erased from existence, shouldn't the piece of her soul that he had captured vanish, too? No quirk should be able to retain a soul without destroying it completely. Yet here she was, physically alive, hanging on by a thread, as if waiting. That idea fed a flicker of hope in Izuku's heart.
All For One wasn't dead.
Then again, if quirks were the evolved form of cursed energy, a physical or mental manifestation of a will, perhaps All For One had found a way to store or anchor her consciousness somehow. Izuku clenched his fists, brow creased with determination.
All For One was alive. The man was powerful—maybe not a monster on Sukuna's level, but he was close, and too dangerous to underestimate. Plus, currently, Izuku wasn't exactly at his prime level.
He leaned in, lowering his voice as he whispered into his mother's ear. "I was born a tool in another time, someone meant to serve as a tool. But you… you gave me my true name, Mom. And I'll pull down the stars or fight the devil himself if it means I can bring you back."
As he straightened, he sensed someone approaching. In an instant, his form flickered and vanished from the room, blending into the shadows just as a nurse walked in to check on Inko. She glanced around, sensing a presence, but brushed it off as the fatigue from another long shift. After a brief look at Inko's monitors, she left quietly.
Downstairs, at the entrance, Katsuki Bakugou waited impatiently, arms crossed as he stared down the road. "Tch. That hag's taking forever," he muttered under his breath, tapping his foot.
Just then, he saw a figure slipping out from the shadowed alley next to the hospital. Despite the hoodie pulled up over his head, Bakugou recognized that casual, confident stride immediately. Izuku Gojo. Even disguised, his presence was unmistakable, like he knew the world wouldn't dare challenge him.
But why the hell would he be coming out of an alley next to a hospital?
Bakugou's eyes narrowed, suspicion taking hold. That guy didn't get sick. He had practically healed Eraserhead with the flick of his wrist; no one with that level of ability would need a hospital. So if he wasn't here for himself, then…
Bakugou stormed up to the reception desk. The man behind the counter glanced up, blinking in mild confusion as Bakugou fixed him with a hard stare.
"Yo. Did anyone named Izuku Gojo check in here?" Bakugou demanded, his tone more aggressive than polite.
The receptionist shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I can't share information about visitors or patients without—"
"Look, I don't care about your policies. Just tell me if he's here!" Bakugou's glare sharpened, a crackle of energy pulsing around him.
The receptionist swallowed hard. "Uh—right, you're Katsuki, aren't you?" he said, trying to sound calm as he glanced nervously at the explosive young man. "Well, I suppose I can make an exception…"
The man scrolled through his system before shaking his head again. "No, no one by the name of Izuku Gojo has checked in or visited anyone here recently."
Bakugou's scowl deepened. So he wasn't officially here. Maybe that had been some other trick of his, but why? He turned on his heel, only to find his mother walking up behind him.
"Hey, brat, what'cha up to?" Mitsuki Bakugou called out with a smirk, raising a brow as she looked at her son. "We gotta go meet Auntie Inko."
Bakugou crossed his arms, trying to seem nonchalant as he glanced back toward the alley. "No need to yell, hag!" he snapped back.
Mitsuki chuckled, shaking her head at her son's usual tone, but he barely noticed. His eyes flicked back to the alleyway where Izuku had disappeared. Just what the hell was going on?
As he followed his mother inside, his mind lingered on that figure slipping away from the shadows. He had no idea what Izuku Gojo was up to… but he was going to find out.
O—O—O
Izuku's phone buzzed, breaking him from his thoughts. He glanced down at the screen and saw All Might's name. With a smirk, he swiped to answer.
"Yo, All Might! To what do I owe the pleasure?" Izuku's tone was light, playful, masking the weight he carried after visiting his mom.
"Young Midoriya," All Might's voice came through, gentle yet laced with worry. "I... I heard you might have stopped by the hospital today."
Izuku's smirk softened as he leaned against a wall, gazing out over the cityscape. "Yeah, I checked in on her. She's stable, just... not quite there yet."
There was a pause on the other end before All Might spoke, his voice low. "I know it must be hard seeing her like that, but please know we'll find a way to help her. We'll get her back, somehow."
"Oh, I'm counting on it. I'm not exactly the 'give-up' type, you know?" Izuku's tone was casual, a confident edge in his voice. "In the meantime, I'll just keep doing what I do best: winning."
There was a sigh from All Might, tinged with a bit of admiration. "Your confidence is… reassuring. But don't lose sight of what's at stake, Izuku. You've taken on so much."
"Oh, trust me, All Might, I haven't forgotten a thing," he replied, his grin widening. "I know what I'm up against. And I know that guy is still out there. But don't worry—I'll be ready."
"Which brings me to the other reason I called," All Might said, his tone shifting to something more serious. "The Sports Festival is coming up. You know what this means, don't you?"
Izuku chuckled, tapping his fingers on his knee. "Ah, yes, the grand stage. Where heroes-in-training go all out to impress the world."
All Might's voice grew firm. "It's more than that, Young Midoriya. It's the time to show the world not just Izuku Gojo, but who you really are. This will be your official debut as Satoru Midoriya."
The name hung in the air for a moment. Izuku's eyes glinted with a flicker of anticipation as he thought about it. "Satoru Midoriya, huh?" he mused. "Feels a bit nostalgic… but I'm ready. Ready to give them a show they won't forget."
All Might's smile was almost audible over the phone. "Good. But remember, this festival is about proving to the world that you're not just another powerhouse. Show them you're a hero."
"Oh, I'm way ahead of you." Izuku's tone was brimming with self-assurance. "When I walk out onto that field, they'll see strength, but they'll also see why I'm going to be the greatest. It's going to be spectacular."
All Might chuckled, despite his own anxieties. "You've got the spirit, that's for sure. But please, don't underestimate the competition. You'll have your hands full, even if you're... well, you."
"I'll keep it in mind," Izuku replied, grinning like he already had the whole thing planned out. "And hey, if anyone can pull off a flashy debut, it's me."
"Good luck, then, Young Midoriya," All Might said, pride evident in his tone. "The world's about to get a glimpse of something truly special."
With a smirk, Izuku hung up, glancing down at his hands as if imagining the roar of the crowd, the flashes of cameras, the awe in their eyes.
"Let's make them remember the name."
O—O—O
Author Note: Sorry for the short chapter and I hope this wasn't too boring.
Things are going to change the canon path little by little from now on. I must warn you: huge canon divergence is waiting ahead. Expect something big soon. Real big. And worry not, no OCs will be introduced.
More Eri-ness next chapter.
Do drop your thoughts in the review section. Your words motivate me to write better and with more depth.
Till next time!